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By Harry C. Edwards 


From the French of 


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Honore De Balzac 


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CESARINE. 


Frontispiece. 




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CESAR BIROTTEAU 


a Newel 


TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH OF 


Honore De Balzac 




ILLUSTRATED 

BY 

HARRY C. EDWARDS 



NEW YORK: 

ROBERT BONNER’S SONS, 

Publishers. 


THE CHOICE SERIES : ISSUED MONTHLY. SUBSCRIPTION PRICE, SIX DOLLARS PER ANNUM. NO. 19, AUGUST, 
1890. ENTERED AT THE NEW YORK, N. Y., POST OFFICE AS SECOND CLASS MAIL MATTER,' 



TZ \ 
,'SU Ces 


Copyright, 1890, 

By ROBERT BONNER’S SONS. 


(Alt rights reserved.') 



PRESS OF 

THE NEW YORK LEDGER 
NEW YORK. 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


OF 

CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


CHAPTER I. 

CESAR IN HIS GLORY. 



N Paris, upon winter nights, the din in the 
Rue St. Honore is but for an instant sus- 
pended ; the wagons from the country, on 
their way from market, take up and continue the mur- 
mur, jusc dying away, caused by the carriages returning 
from theatres and balls. In the very dead of this 
moment of repose, which occurs in the symphony of 


6 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


Parisian tumult, at about one o’clock in the morning, 
the wife of Cesar Birotteau, a retail perfumer doing 
business near the Place Vendome, was suddenly awak- 
ened by a frightful dream. She saw herself double ; 
she appeared before herself in rags, lifting with a dry 
and wrinkled hand the latch of her own shop door, thus 
being at the same time upon the threshold and in 
her chair behind the counter ; she asked herself alms, 
and she heard herself speak both at the door and at the 
desk. She tried to grasp her husband, and putting 
her hand upon his place in the bed, found it cold. Her 
fear now became so intense that her neck stiffened to 
petrifaction ; the sides of her throat stuck together, 
and her voice failed ; she remained glued to her seat, 
her eyes staring and fixed, her hair standing on end, 
her ears filled with unusual sounds, her heart contracted, 
but still beating, and, in short, both perspiring and 
icy cold, in the middle of an alcove, the two folding 
doors of which were open. 

Fear is a partially diseased feeling, which acts so vio- 
lently upon the human mechanism that its faculties are 
suddenly strung to the highest pitch of their power, or 
reduced to the lowest possible degree of disorganization. 
Physiologists have long wondered at this phenomenon, 
which confounds their systems and overturns their con- 
jectures, though it is nothing more, so to speak, than an 
internal lightning flash, but, like all electrical effects, 
capricious and irregular in its method. This explana- 
tion will be the common one when scientific men have 
recognized and acknowledged the immense part that 
electricity plays in the processes of the human mind. 

Madame Birotteau now experienced several of these 
luminous throes, so to speak, caused by these terrible 
discharges of the will, scattered or concentrated by an 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


7 


unknown mechanism. Thus, during a lapse of time short 
when measured by the watch, but incommensurable 
by the standard of her rapid impressions, the poor wo- 
man became possessed of the extraordinary power of 
emitting more ideas, of remembering more incidents, 
than, in the ordinary state of her faculties, she could 
have done in twenty-four hours. The startling details 
of this monologue may be summed up in a few 
words as absurd and contradictory as the monologue 
itself. 

“ There can be no possible reason for Birotteau’s get- 
ting out of bed. Can he have eaten so much veal that 
he has made himself sick ? But if he were unwell, he 
would have waked me. During the nineteen years that 
we have slept together in this bed, in this very house, 
never has the poor darling once left his place without 
letting me know. If he has slept out, it must be because 
he’s at the station-house. Did he come to bed at all 
to-night ? Why yes, idiot that I am, he did.” 

With these words she cast her eyes upon her husband’s 
place in the bed, and there saw his night-cap, which still 
preserved the conical form of his head. 

“ Can he be dead ?” she resumed. “ Has he killed 
himself ? Why should he ? During these two years that 
he has been deputy-mayor, he has been all topsy turvy. 
To put him in the public service ! ridiculous, upon my 
word. His business is prosperous, for he has given me 
a shawl. But perhaps it’s in a bad way. No, he would 
have told me. But who ever knew what a man’s got in 
the bank ? or a woman, either ? There’s no harm in it. 
Didn’t we make sales to-day to the tune of five thousand 
francs ? Besides, a deputy-mayor could not commit 
suicide ; he knows it’s against the law. Where can he 
be ?” 


8 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


She could not turn her head, nor stretch out her hand 
to pull a bell, though she might have thus aroused a 
cook, three clerks, and a shop-boy. Still under the influ- 
ence of the nightmare, which continued though she was 
awake, she entirely forgot her daughter who was sleep- 
ing quietly in a chamber adjoining her own, the door of 
which opened at the foot of her bed. At last she cried 
“ Birotteau !” but received no answer. She thought 
she had pronounced the name, but had only uttered it 
mentally. 

“ Can he have a mistress ? Impossible, he is too stu- 
pid, and besides,- he loves me too much. Didn’t he say 
to Madame Roguin that he had never been unfaithful, 
even in thought ? He is integrity itself descended to 
earth. If any one deserves paradise, he is the man. 
What sins has he to avow to his confessor ? For a royal- 
ist that he is, without knowing why, though, he does 
not make much show of his religion. He goes stealthily 
to mass, poor man, at eight in the morning, as if he was 
going to some improper place. He fears God, for God’s 
own sake ; but he thinks very little of hell. How could 
he be unfaithful ? He sticks so close to my petticoat 
that he actually bores me. He loyes me more than he 
does his own peepers, and he’d put his eyes out to please 
me. Never, during nineteen years, has he spoken a hard 
word, that is, to me. His own daughter is second to me. 
But Cesarine is there. (Cesarine ! Cesarine !) Birotteau 
has never had a thought that he has not told me of. He 
had good reason, when he used to come a-wooing to the 
Sailor-Boy, to declare that I never would know him till 
I tried him, and now he’s gone ! Stupefying mystery !” 

She turned her head with effort, and cast a furtive 
glance across the chamber, full, at this moment, of those 
picturesque effects of light and shade, peculiar to the 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


9 


night, inexpressible in words, and seemingly the exclu- 
sive domain of the pencil and the brush. What lan- 
guage could enable us to describe the grotesque zigzags 
produced by the lengthened shadows, the fantastic 
shapes assumed by curtains swollen by the wind, the 
play of the uncertain taper-light in the folds of the Tur- 
key red, the fiery reflection vomited, so to speak, from a 
gilded arm sustaining the drapery — the flashing centre 
of which resembled the eye of a thief — the apparition of 
a gown on its knees, in short, the thousand caprices 
which exalt and terrify the imagination, especially at 
moments when its only tendency is to receive painful 
impressions and to intensify them. 

Madame Birotteau imagined she perceived a brilliant 
light in the room adjoining her own, and straightway 
thought of fire ; but on noticing a red bandanna hand- 
kerchief, which had the appearance of a pool of blood, 
the idea of robbers seized her to the exclusion of all 
others, especially when she sought to discern, in the 
situation of the furniture, the traces of a struggle. At 
the remembrance of the sum of money which was in 
the till, a more worthy apprehension extinguished the 
chills and fever of the nightmare ; she got up and 
rushed, all excited as she was, and in her night habili- 
ments into the middle of the chamber, where she expected 
to find her husband contending manfully with murderers 
and burglars. 

“ Birotteau ! Birotteau !” she cried in tones full of 
anguish. She found the perfumer in the middle of the 
adjoining room, a yardstick in his hand, with which he 
was measuring the air, but so ill wrapped in his green 
cotton dressing-gown with chocolate-colored spots, that 
his legs were red with the cold, though he, in his excite- 
ment, did not feel it. When Cesar turned round to say 


10 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


to his wife, “ Well, Constance, what do you want,” his 
manner, like that of men absorbed in mathematical cal- 
culations, was so absurdly foolish, that Madame Birot- 
teau laughed outright. 

“ Bless me, Cesar,” she exclaimed, “how funny you 
do look ! Why did you leave me alone without letting 
me know it? I was nearly dead with fear, and I did 
not know what to think. What are you doing here, 
exposed to the four winds ? You’ll catch a cold that’ll 
make you bark. Don’t you hear, Birotteau ?” 

“ I do, wife, and here I am,” replied the perfumer, 
returning to the bed-room. 

“ Come and warm yourself, and tell me what folly 
has got you now,” said Madame Birotteau, raking the 
ashes open, and rekindling the fire. “ I’m freezing, 
goose that I was to get up in my night-gown. But I 
really thought they were murdering you.” 

The perfumer placed his candle upon the mantel-piece, 
wrapped himself up in his dressing-gown, and went 
mechanically to get his wife her flannel petticoat. 

“ Here, love, put this on,” he said. “ 22 by 18,” he 
added, resuming his monologue, “we can have a superb 
salon.” 

“ I say, Birotteau, are you going mad ? Are you 
dreaming?” 

“ No, wife, I am calculating.” 

“You might as well wait for daylight, to perpetrate 
such follies,” cried she, tying on her petticoat under her 
night-gown, to go and open the door of the chamber 
where her daughter slept. 

“ Cesarine is asleep,” she said ; “ she will not hear us. 
Go on, Birotteau, speak. What is the matter ?” 

“ We can give the ball.” 


OF CESAR BIROTTEATT. 


11 


“ Give a ball ! We ! Upon my word, you are dream- 
ing, my good man.” 

“ I am not dreaming, beautiful gazelle,” he replied. 
“ Listen. A man must always act in accordance with 
the position which he occupies. The government has 
advanced me. I belong to the government ; we are 
therefore called upon to study its spirit and to forward 
its designs by developing them. The Duke de Riche- 
lieu has just brought about the evacuation of French 
territory. According to M. de la Billardiere, the public 
officers who represent the city of Paris shojild make it 
their duty, each in the circle of his influence, to cele- 
brate the liberation of the land. Let us manifest a sin- 
cere patriotism which will shame that of those plotting 
intriguers, the self-styled liberals. Do you think I do 
not love my country ? I mean to show the liberals, 
my enemies, that loving the king is the same as loving 
France !” 

“ So you think that you have enemies, my poor Bi- 
rotteau ?” 

“ Yes, wife, we have enemies. Half our friends in the 
neighborhood are enemies. They all of them say: 
‘ Birotteau’s in luck. Birotteau has risen from nothing, 
and yet he’s deputy-mayor, and everything he does 
succeeds.’ They’ll find out once more how true that is. 
Be the first to learn, wife, that I am a Knight of the 
Legion of Honor ; the king signed the decree yester- 
day.” 

“ Oh, then,” said Madame Birotteau, quite excited, 
“ we must give the ball, dear. But what have you done 
to deserve the cross ?” 

“When M. de la Billardiere told me the news yester- 
day,” said Birotteau, with embarrassment, “ I asked my- 
self the same question. What are my claims, said I. 


12 


THE GKEATNESS AND DECLINE 


But as I was coming home, I succeeded in discovering 
the reasons of the government, and in approving its 
course. In the first place, I am a royalist, and was 
wounded at St. Roch in Vendemiaire. Is it nothing to 
have borne arms at that time for the good cause ? 
Then, there are no few merchants who say that I dis- 
charged my consular functions to the satisfaction of all. 
At last, I have become deputy, and the king awards 
four crosses to the municipal body of the city of Paris. 
Upon examination of the persons among the deputies 
who might be honored with the decoration, the prefect 
put my name the first upon the list. Besides, the king 
must know me ; thanks to old Ragon, my predecessor, 
I supply him with the only powder he is willing to use ; 
we alone possess the recipe for making the late queen’s 
powder, dear august victim that she was ! The mayor 
zealously supported me. So that if the king gives me 
the cross without my asking him, it seems to me that I 
cannot refuse it without insulting him. Did I ever ask 
to be deputy ? 

“ So, wife, as we have the wind astern, as your uncle 
Pillerault says, when he is in a frolicsome humor, I am 
decided to place everything in our house upon a footing 
with our lofty fortunes. If I can be any body, I will 
run my chance of becoming what kind Heaven wants 
me to become, sub-prefect, for instance, if such is my 
destiny. You commit a grave error, wife, in supposing 
that a citizen has paid his debt to his country in having 
retailed perfumery for twenty years to people who come 
to buy it. If the state claims the help of our light and 
information, we are as much bound to give it as we are 
to pay the window tax, the furniture tax, and the rest. 
Do you desire to remain forever behind your counter ? 
You have lived there long enough already, Heaven be 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


13 


praised ! The ball shall be our fete. Farewell to re- 
tailing — for you, that is. 

“ I shall burn our sign of The Queen of Roses ; I’ll 
efface the words Cdsar Birotteau , Perfumer , successor to 
Ragon, and will simply put Perfumery in their place, in 
big golden letters. Til place the office, the till, and a 
neat retiring-room for you on the first floor. I’ll convert 
the back shop, the dining-room and the kitchen, as they 
now stand, into a store. I’ll hire the first story of the 
adjoining house, into which I’ll cut a door through the 
wall. I’ll reverse the stairway, so as to go on the same 
level from one house to the other. Thus we will have 
a large suite of apartments furnished like a peacock’s 
tail I shall refit your chamber, arrange you a boudoir 
somewhere, and give a nice room to Cesarine. The 
shop-girl that you engage, our first clerk, and your 
chambermaid (yes, madame, you shall have one,) shall 
live upon the second story. Upon the third will be the 
kitchen, the cook and the porters. The fourth shall 
consist of our warehouse of bottles, glass and porcelain. 
And our workwomen shall occupy the garret. The 
passers-by shall no longer see us pasting labels, sewing 
bags, assorting phials, and corking flacons. Well 
enough for the Rue St. Denis, but in the Rue St. Ho- 
nore, pooh ! not the thing at all. Our shop must be as 
grand as a parlor. Are we the only perfumers who 
have risen to honors ? Are there not makers of vine- 
gar and dealers in mustard, who are officers in the 
National Guard, and who are highly considered at the 
palace? Let us follow their example ; let us extend our 
business, and at the same time make our way into good 
society.” 

“ Now, do you know, Birotteau, what I’ve been think- 
ing of? You look very much like a man making him- 


14 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


self trouble where none exists. Remember my advice 
to you when the idea was broached of appointing you 
mayor: ‘Your tranquillity before everything!’ You 
are no more made, I said, for public service than my 
arm is for the wing of a windmill. Greatness would be 
your ruin. You did not listen to me, and now our ruin is 
come. To play a part in politics, a man must have money. 
Have we any ? What ! you want to burn your sign which 
cost you six hundred francs, and abandon the Queen of 
Roses, your true and only glory ! Leave ambition to 
others. If you put your hand into the fire, you draw it 
out burned, don’t you ? Well, politics burns, nowa- 
days. We have one hundred thousand francs invested 
outside of our business, our manufactory, and our stock, 
have we not ? If you want to increase your fortune, 
do now as you did in 1793 ; government securities are at 
72 francs ; invest it in government securities. You will 
have ten thousand francs income, and the investment 
will in no respect injure our business. Take advantage 
of this improvement to marry our daughter; sell out 
our establishment, and let us retire to the country. 
What! for fifteen years, you have talked of nothing but 
buying the Tresorieres, that charming little property 
near Chinon, where there are springs, meadows, woods, 
vines, two farms under culture, which bring in three 
thousand francs a year, and where we should both be 
glad to live, and which we can still purchase for sixty 
thousand francs, and you are now crazy to be something 
or somebody in the government. 

“ Remember what we are — retail perfumers. If you 
had been told sixteen years ago, before you had invented 
• the Concentrated Sultana Paste, and the Carmina- 
tive Water, ‘You shall have the money to buy the Tre- 
sorieres,’ wouldn’t you have gone wild with joy ? Well, 


OF CESAR BIROTTEATJ. 


15 


you are now able to buy this estate, which you desired 
so ardently that you could speak of nothing else, and 
yet you talk of spending in folly means obtained by the 
sweat of our brows, — I have a right to say ours, for I 
have always had my seat behind the counter, like a poor 
dog in his corner. Is it not better to have a room. kept 
for you at your daughter’s house — she having become the 
wife of a notary of Paris — and live eight months of the 
year at Chinon, than to stay here and lose money hand 
over fist? Wait for a rise in government stocks, give 
eight thousand a year to your daughter, keep two thous- 
and for ourselves ; the sale of our stock and good-will 
will enable us to buy the Tresorieres. There, in the 
country, with our expensive city furniture, we can live 
like princes, while to make a figure here, we need a 
million at least.” 

“ That’s where I have you, wife,” returned Cesar. “ I 
am not fool enough — though you think me a big one — 
to act without reflection. Listen. Alexander Crottat is 
exactly what we want for a son-in-law ; and he will suc- 
ceed Roguin in his notaryship. But do you think he 
will be content with a dowry of one hundred thousand 
francs — on the supposition that we portion Cesarine with 
all our floating capital, which is my desire? I would 
willingly eat dry bread for the rest of my days, to see 
her as happy as a queen — in short, a Paris notary’s wife. 
Now, one hundred thousand francs, or even the capital 
producing eight thousand francs a year, are nothing 
towards purchasing the good will of Roguin’s office. 
Little Xandrot, as we call him, believes us, as everybody 
else does, to be much richer than we are. If his father — 
a heavy landed proprietor, and as close as a vice — does 
not sell one hundred thousand francs worth of land, 
Xandrot won’t be a notary, for Roguin’s office is worth 


16 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


four or five hundred thousand francs, and Crottat must 
absolutely pay one half in cash. Cesarine must have a 
dowry of two hundred thousand francs, and we must 
retire from business, solid citizens of Paris, worth fifteen 
thousand a year. If I make that as clear as daylight, 
your potato-trap will shut up, won’t it ?” 

“ Oh, if you’ve got the mines of Peru — ” 

“ Well, I have, my dear. Yes,” he said, taking his wife 
by the Waist, and tapping her gently, under the influence 
of feelings which animated all his features, “I did not 
mean to mention this affair before it was well cut and 
dried ; but I shall close it to-morrow, perhaps. Here it 
is : Roguin has offered me a share in a speculation which 
seems so certain that he goes in with Ragon, your uncle 
Pillerault, and two of his clients. We are going to buy, 
in the neighborhood of the Madeleine, land which we 
can get now for one quarter of the value it will have 
reached, according to Roguin’s calculation, three years 
hence. At that period, all lease and ground rents will 
have expired, and we can manage the land as we please. 
We six enter into the scheme in porportions already 
agreed upon. I subscribe three hundred thousand francs, 
and represent three-eights of the capital. If any one of 
us needs money, Roguin will obtain it upon his portion, 
by a mortgage. 

“ In order to hold the affair in my own hands, and 
know for myself how matters are going, I have stipu- 
lated that the half common between me, Pillerault, and 
old Ragon, shall be in my name. Roguin’s will be in 
the name of one Charles Claparon, my co-proprietor, 
who is, like me, to convey their shares back to his asso- 
ciates. The deeds of purchase are made by agreement 
to sell under private seal, until we come into full pos- 
session of the land. Roguin will say which contracts are 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


17 


to be carried into effect, for he is not sure that we shall 
be able to dispense with entering them at the registry 
office, and thus throw the registry tax upon those to 



plain. The land once paid for, we may fold our 
arms, and in three years from now we shall be worth a 
routid million. Cesarine will be twenty years old, our 
stock and good-will will be sold, and we will sail mod- 
estly along towards greatness as Heaven may kindly 
decree.” 

“Yes, but where are you going to get your three 
hundred thousand francs purchase money ?” asked 
Madame Birotteau. 

“ You don’t understand business, at all, my love. I 
will take first, the hundred thousand francs that are 
waiting for investment in Roguin’s hands ; next, I will 
borrow forty thousand francs more upon the buildings 
and gardens of our factory in the Faubourg du Temple ; 
then we have twenty thousand in negotiable paper : in 
all one hundred and sixty thousand francs. There 
remain but one hundred and forty thousand more, for 
which I will sign notes to the order of Charles Claparon, 
banker ; he will give me the proceeds, the discount off. 
There are the three hundred thousand francs paid ; for 
he who owes on time, owes nothing, as they say. When 
the notes fall due, we’ll meet them with our profits. If 
we can’t meet tfyem, Roguin will advance me money, 
at five per cent., secured by a mortgage upon my share of 
the land. But it will be quite unnecessary to borrow, 
for I have discovered an essence to make the hair grow, 
a Comageneous Oil ! Livingston has put up an hydrau- 
lic press in the factory to make oil from nuts, which, 
under heavy pressure, will give out all the oil in them. 
I expect to make one hundred thousand francs the first 


18 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


year. I am thinking of a hand-bill beginning thus : 
“ Down with Wigs ! ” the effect of which will be prodig- 
ious. You have not observed my sleepless nights ! For 
three months the success of Macassar Oil has disturbed 
my slumbers. Macassar must be crushed !” 

“ So, then, these are the fine projects you’ve been 
turning over in your cocoa-nut the past two months, 
without saying a word to me ! I have just seen myself 
begging at my own door, may Heaven be praised for 
the warning ! We shall soon have nothing left but our 
eyes to weep with. Never shall you do it, Cesar, while 
I am alive ! There are manoeuvres and underhand 
intrigues beneath all this, which you don’t see ; you are 
too honest and upright to suspect rascality in others. 
Why do these people come and offer you millions in this 
way ! You strip yourself of your property, you involve 
yourself beyond your means ; if your oil doesn’t take, if 
money isn’t to be had, and if the lands don’t sell, how 
are you to meet these notes ? With the nut shells ? In 
order to get up in society, you want to take down your 
name, and you talk of suppressing the sign of the Queen 
of Roses, and yet here you are composing ridiculous 
bills and prospectuses which will exhibit Cesar Birot- 
teau stuck on every post and pasted on every wall.” 

“ Oh, you don’t understand. I’ll have a branch 
under the name of Popinot, in some building near the 
Rue des Lombards, where I’ll establish little Anselme. 
In this way I’ll pay my debt of gratitude towards 
Monsieur and Madame Ragon, in setting their nephew 
up in business. These poor people have seemed to me 
under the weather for some time past.” 

“ My idea is that these men want your money.” 

“What men, Constance? Certainly not your uncle 
Pillerault, who is so fond of us and who dines with us 


OF CESAR BIROTTEATJ. 


19 


every Sunday ? Not that dear old Ragon, our predeces- 
sor, who has been so honest for forty years, and with 
whom we play at Boston ? Not Roguin, a notary of 
Paris, fifty-seven years old, and who has been a notary 
for twenty-five years ? A notary of Paris would be the 
very cream of honest men, if honest men were not all 
cre&m alike. In case of need, my associates will aid me. 
Where is the plot, then ? I must tell you what I think 
of you, for as I’m a man, Constance, I’ve got it on 
my conscience. You are as suspicious as a lynx, my 
sweet ! As soon as we had made two sous, you took 
every purchaser for a thief. And now I have to go on 
my knees to beg you to let yourself make money ! For 
a woman of Paris, you are not very ambitious. With- 
out your perpetual apprehensions, no one would have 
been happier than I ! If I had listened to you, I should 
never have made either my Concentrated Sultana 
Paste or my Carminative Water. The shop has given 
us a living, it is true, but these two inventions and our 
assortment of soap have given us over one hundred and 
sixty thousand francs clear ! Without my genius, for I 
really have a talent for perfumery, we should be miserable 
little retailers, and should be forever dragging the devil 
by the tail to make the two ends meet ; I shouldn’t be 
one of the notables who elect the judges of the tribunal 
of commerce, and I should have been neither judge nor 
deputy. I’ll tell you what I should be ! A mere shop 
keeper like old daddy Ragon — I say it without offense, 
for I respect shopkeeping, as the best part of all we’ve 
got has come of it ! After having sold perfumery for 
forty years, we should possess, like him, barely three 
thousand francs a year ; and as the necessaries of life 
have nearly doubled in price, we should hardly have the 
means of living. (I am more and more concerned for 


20 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


those old people every day ; I must look into the matter, 
and I'll have an explanation from Popinot to-morrow.) 
If I had followed your advice — you who are so uneasy 
in your happiness, and who are always asking yourself 
whether you will have to-morrow what you have to-day, 
I should have no influence, I should not have the cross 
of the Legion of Honor, and shouldn’t be in the way 
to become a politician. Oh, it’s no use shaking your 
head ; if our affair comes to a point, I may be chosen 
member for Paris. My name is not Cesar for nothing ; 
everything I do succeeds. It is really inconceivable 
that while everybody out of doors acknowledges my 
ability, at home, the only person whom I wish to please 
and for whose happiness I am ready to sweat blood and 
water, is precisely she who considers me an idiot.” 

These sentences, tho’ interrupted by eloquent flashes 
of silence and fired as if they were bullets — after the 
manner of all who assume an attitude of recrimination — 
expressed so profound and unalterable an attachment, 
that Madame Birotteau was internally much moved ; 
but, like all women, she profited by the affection she 
inspired to advance the cause she had espoused. 

“Well, Birotteau,” she said, “let me be happy in my 
own way, if you love me. Neither you nor I have re- 
ceived any education ; we can neither speak nor even 
say 4 How d’ye do ’ after the manner of people of fashion; 
how can you expect us to succeed in government offices? 
I should be happy at the Tresorieres; I like animals 
and birds and could easily pass my life in taking care of 
chickens, and being a farmer’s wife generally. Let us 
sell the shop, marry Cesarine, and let your hair oil go. 
We will come and spend the winter in Paris with our 
son-in-law ; we shall be well off and happy, for nothing 
either in politics or trade can change our manner of 


OF CESAR BIROTTEATJ. 


21 


life. Why should we wish to crush other people ? Isn't 
our present fortune enough ? When you are a million- 
aire, will you dine twice ? Will you need another wife 
than me ? Look at my uncle Pillerault ; he is wisely 
contented with his modest property and spends his life 
in doing good. Does he want fine furniture ? Speak- 
ing of furniture, I'm sure you have ordered mine ; for 
I saw Braschon here, and he didn’t come to buy soap." 

“Well, then, ducky, the furniture is ordered, and our 
repairs and alterations are to be begun to-morrow, super- 
intended by an architect whom M. de la Billardiere has 
recommended to me." 

“ Great Heaven, have pity on us !” cried Madame 
Birotteau. 

“You are unreasonable," returned her husband. 
“Think of going to bury yourself at Chinon, young 
and handsome as you are, and only thirty-seven years 
old ! Thank God, I'm only thirty-nine myself. Chance 
offers me a career of splendor, I accept the offer. By 
cautious conduct, I may establish an honorable house in 
the bourgeoisie of Paris, and found, as was the custom 
not long ago, the Birotteaus, just as there are the Kel- 
lers, Jules Desmarets, Roguins, Cochins, Guillaumes 
Popinots, Matifats who are conspicuous or have been 
conspicuous in their quarters of the city. If, indeed, 
the affair was not as sure as golden ingots — " 

“ Sure ?" 

“Yes, sure. I have been figuring it out these two 
months. Without letting anyone know it, I have been 
posting myself in building matters, at the office of the 
corporation, with architects and contractors. Monsieur 
Grindot, the young architect who is to overhaul our 
apartments, is desperate at having no money with which 
to take part in our speculation." 


22 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


“ Oh, he thinks there is building to do, and he urges 
you on, to finger your money." 

“ Will men like Pillerault, Charles Claparon, and 
Roguin allow their money to be fingered ? The profit 
is as sure as that of the Concentrated Sultana." 

“ But, my good husband, what need has Roguin to 
speculate at all, if his office is paid for and his fortune 
is made ? I see him pass now and then, looking as 
anxious as a minister of state, and glaring from under 
his eyebrows in a way I don’t like ; he’s got some se- 
cret trouble. His face has become during the last five 
years that of an old debauchee. How do you know he 
won’t kick up when he’s got his hand on your money ? 
Such things have happened. Do we know him inti- 
mately? For all his being our friend for fifteen years, I 
wouldn’t put my hand in the fire for him. He does 
not live with his wife. When I am dressing myself, I 
look through the blinds, and I see him coming home on 
foot, early in the morning. Where does he come from ? 
Nobody knows. He seems to me like a man who has 
his own private establishment, spending money for him- 
self, while his wife does as much for herself. Is that 
the life of a notary ? If they make fifty thousand francs 
a year, and spend sixty, in twenty years they’ll run 
through their fortune, and will find themselves as naked 
as the infant St. John ; but as they have been accus- 
tomed to shine, they’ll prey without pity on their friends; 
now charity, well understood, begins at home. He is 
intimate with that little wretch of adu Tillet, our former 
clerk, and I see nothing good in this friendship. If he 
doesn’t see through du Tillet, he is blind ; and if he 
does see through him, why does he make so much of 
him ? You will say, perhaps, that his wife is in love 
with du Tillet ; very well ; I expect nothing good of a 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


23 


man when his wife does not respect him. Besides, are 
the present holders of these lands stupid, that they offer 
for five francs what is worth one hundred ? If you 
were to meet a child who did not know the value of a 
louis, wouldn’t you tell him ? Your speculation looks 
to me like a swindle, though I mean no offence.” 

“ Dear me, how queer women sometimes are, and how 
they mix ideas up together ! If Roguin had no share 
in the enterprise, you would say, ‘ Look here, Cesar, 
you have undertaken an affair without Roguin. It can’t 
be a safe one.’ In this present business he appears as a 
guarantee, and yet you say — ” 

“ No, it’s a Monsieur Claparon.” 

“ Well, a notary cannot appear by name in a specu- 
lation.” 

“ Then why does he do a thing forbidden by the law ? 
Answer, you who are so strong upon the law.” 

“ Don’t interrupt. Roguin joins us, and you say the 
•plan is good for nothing. Is it reasonable ? Then you 
say, ‘ He is doing what the law forbids.’ He will ap- 
pear in his own proper person, if necessary. And now 
you say, ‘ He’s rich.’ Couldn’t the same thing be said 
of me ? How would you like to have Ragon and Piller- 
ault come and ask me, 4 Why do you go into this affair, 
you who are as rich as a hog-merchant ? ’ ” 

“ Traders are not in the same position as notaries,” 
said Madame Birotteau. 

“In short, my conscience is tranquil,” returned Cesar. 
“ Those who sell, sell from necessity. We no more 
rob them, than we rob those of whom we buy stocks at 
75. We buy land to-day, and we buy it at the price it 
brings to-day ; two years hence it will be different with 
both land and stocks. Be very sure, Constance-Barbe- 
Josephine Pillerault, that you will never catch Cesar 


24 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


Birotteau committing an action which is either against 
the law, or at variance with the dictates of integrity, 
morality, or honor. To think of a man established in 
business for eighteen years being suspected of dishonesty 
in his own family !” 

“ Come, Cesar, don’t be angry. The woman who has 
lived with you all that time knows your excellent heart. 
After all, you are the master. It is you who have made 
our fortune ; it is yours, you can spend it. Though we 
are reduced to the lowest depths of misery, neither 
Cesarine nor I will ever utter a reproach. But listen : 
when you invented your Sultana Paste and your Car- 
minative Water, what did you risk ? Some five or six 
thousand francs. To-day you are staking your whole* 
fortune upon a single turn of a card, and you are not 
doing it alone, either ; you have associates who may 
prove sharper than you. Give your ball, refurnish your 
rooms, spend ten thousand francs, it will do no good, 
but it will not ruin us. As to your Madeleine affair, I 
object to it formally. You are a perfumer ; stay a per- 
fumer, and don’t be a speculator in land. We women 
have an instinct which never deceives us. I have warned 
you, now do as you like. You have been a judge in the 
Tribunal of Commerce ; you understand the laws ; you 
have skilfully guided your bark, and I’ll follow you, 
Cesar. But I shall tremble till I see our fortune firmly 
established, and Cesarine well married. God grant that 
my dream be not a prophecy !” 

This submission vexed Birotteau, who employed the 
innocent ruse to which he usually resorted upon similar 
occasions. 

“ I haven’t yet positively promised, Constance ; but 
it’s just as if I had.” 

“ Oh, Cesar, it’s all over, let’s say no more about it. 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


25 


Honor takes precedence of fortune. Come, go back to 
bed, there’s no more wood. Besides, it will be more 
comfortable talking in bed, if it amuses you. Oh ! what 
a frightful dream ! To see one’s self ! oh, it’s hideous ! 
Cesarine and I must give ourselves up to prayers and 
devotions for the success of your land.” 

“ Of course the aid of God can do no harm,” said 
Birotteau, seriously. “ But the essence of nuts is like- 
wise a power, wife. I made this discovery as I did 
formerly that of the Concentrated Sultana, by chance ; 
the first, while opening a book ; this last, while looking 
at the engraving of Hero and Leander. Pretty idea, 
isn’t it, a woman pouring oil upon the head of her 
lover? The safest speculations are those which are 
founded upon vanity, self-love, and the desire of appear- 
ing to advantage. These sentiments never perish.” 

“ Alas, I see they don’t !” 

“ At a certain age, men will do anything on earth to 
get their hair back, if they have lost it. For some time 
past, the barbers have told me that they sell not only 
Macassar, but every sort of preparation that dyes hair, 
as well as makes it grow. Since the peace, men have 
more time to spend with women, who can’t abide bald 
heads. Ha ! ha ! my ducky dear ! So, the demand for 
these articles is explained by the political state of the 
country. A composition which would really keep the 
hair in health would sell like bread, especially as my 
essence will doubtless be approved by the Academy of 
Sciences. My good friend Vauquelin will assist me 
again, perhaps. I’ll go and propose it to him to- 
morrow, and give him at the same time the engraving 
which I have succeeded in finding, after a two years’ 
search, in Germany. He is engaged, as luck will have 
it, in an analysis of the human hair. Chiffreville, his 


26 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


partner in manufacturing chemicals, told me so. If my 
discovery agrees with his, my essence will be bought by 
both sexes. I repeat that the idea is a fortune. Luck- 
ily, little Popinot has the finest hair I ever saw. With 
a shop-girl whose hair drags upon the ground, and who 
could assert, if the thing is possible without offending 
God or man, that the Comageneous Oil (for I have de- 
cided to call it an oil) had something to do with it, every 
grey head in the country would pounce upon it like 
poverty upon the world. How about your ball now, 
my deary ? I don’t wish anybody harm, but I should 
like to meet that du Tillet, who plays the big-bug with 
his fortune, and who always avoids me on ’Change. 
He knows that I’m acquainted with a performance of 
his which does him no honor. Perhaps I have treated 
him too well. Isn’t it strange, wife, that we are always 
punished for our good actions — here below, I mean, of 
course ! I’ve acted like a father to him ; you don’t 
know all that I have done for him.” 

“ Don’t speak of it ; it gives me goose-flesh all over. 
If you knew what he 'wanted to do for you, you would 
not have kept the secret of the theft of the three thous- 
and francs, for I have guessed the way in which it was 
managed. If you had taken him to the station-house, 
perhaps you would have done society a service.” 

“ What did he want to do for me ?” 

“ Oh, nothing. If you were in a listening mood 
to night, I would give you a good piece of advice, 
Birotteau, — just to let du Tillet alone.” 

“ Wouldn’t it be thought strange that I should exclude 
from my house a clerk whose security I was for the 
twenty thousand francs with which he commenced busi- 
ness ? Let us do good for the sake of doing good. 
Besides, perhaps du Tillet has reformed.” 


OF CESAR BIROTTEATJ. 


27 


“ We shall be in a perfect uproar here.” 

“ What do you mean by a perfect uproar ? Everything 
will be straight as a sheet of ruled music paper. 
Have you forgotten what I said about the staircase, and 
my hiring a suite of rooms in the adjoining house — all 
of which is arranged with Cayron, the umbrella dealer. 
We are to go together to-morrow, to see Molineux, his 
landlord, for I have as much business on my hands as a 
minister of state—” 

“ Oh, you have turned my head with your schemes,” 
said Constance. “ I’m all mixed up. Besides, Birotteau, 
I’m half asleep.” 

t “ Good-day,” returned the husband. “ I say good-day, 
because it’s morning. Ah, the good soul’s off. Never 
mind, you shall have money to roll in, or my name is not 
Cesar.” 

A few moments later, Constance and Cesar were 
peacefully snoring. 

The id£as suggested to the reader by the friendly 
altercation of the two principal characters of this sketch 
will be confirmed by a rapid glance at their previous life. 
While describing their habits, we can explain by what 
strange chance Cesar Birotteau was both perfumer and 
deputy-mayor, ex-officer in the National Guard and 
Knight of the Legion of Honor. As we throw light upon 
the depths of his character and upon the springs of his 
greatness, the reader will understand how the commer- 
cial accidents over which strong heads easily triumph, 
become irreparable catastrophes for feeble minds. 
Events are never absolute, their results depend alto- 
gether upon the individuals affected by them ; misfor- 
tune is a stepping-stone for the great, an expiation for 
the pious, a mine for the shrewd, a precipice for the 
weak. 


28 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


A peasant of the environs of Chinon, named Jacques 
Birotteau, married the chambermaid of a lady whose 
vines he tended ; he had three sons ; his wife died in 
giving birth to the last, and the poor man survived her 
but a short time. The lady was fond of her chamber- 
maid ; she caused her eldest son, named Frangois, to be 
educated with her own children, and placed him in a 
seminary. Ordained a priest, Frangois Birotteau con- 
cealed himself during the Revolution and led the wan- 
dering life of the refractory priests, who were hunted like 
wild beasts, and, at the very least, guillotined. At the 
time when our story begins he was vicar of the Cathe- 
dral of Tours, and had never left that city but once, s in 
order to go and see his brother at Paris. The bustle 
and tumult of the city so bewildered the good priest 
that he dared not leave his room ; he called gigs 
“ half-carriages,” and was amazed at everything. After 
remaining a week he went home to Tours, determined 
never to return to the capital. 

The peasant's second son, Jean Birotteau, drafted by 
the conscription, rapidly rose to the rank of captain dur- 
ing the earlier engagements of the Revolution. At the 
battle of la Trebia, Macdonald called for volunteers to 
carry a battery by assault. Captain Jean Birotteau 
advanced with his company and was killed. The 
destiny of the Birotteaus doubtless required that they 
should be oppressed by men or by events wherever 
they should plant their standard. 

The last son is the hero of this sketch. When, at the 
age of fourteen years, he could read, write and cipher, 
he left his village and went on foot to Paris, to seek his 
fortune, with one louis in his pocket. The recommen- 
dation of an apothecary of Tours obtained him a place 
as shop-boy with M. and Madame Ragon, retail per- 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


29 


fumers. Cesar possessed at this time a pair of hob- 
nailed shoes, a pair of pantaloons, blue stockings, an 
embroidered waistcoat, a peasant’s coat, three stout 
linen shirts, and a staff. Though his hair was cut like 
that of chorister children, he had the solid build 
peculiar to the inhabitants of la Touraine ; though, like 
his countrymen, he sometimes abandoned himself to 
idleness, his desire to make his fortune was an ample 
compensation ; though he wanted both native wit and 
education, he inherited an instinctive recitude and senti- 
ments of delicacy from his mother, who, in the idiom of 
la Touraine, had a “ heart of gold.” Cesar was boarded 
and lodged and earned six francs a month. He slept 
on a miserable pallet, in the garret, near the cook ; the 
clerks, who taught him to pack boxes, to run of errands 
and to sweep the shop and the street before the door, 
made merry at his expense while inuring him to his 
work, in accordance with the custom in shops, where 
practical jokes are considered the principal element in 
education ; M. and Madame Ragon spoke to him as if 
he were a dog. No one noticed the apprentice’s fatigue, 
though in the evening, his feet, bruised by the pave- 
ments, pained him dreadfully, and his shoulders seemed 
almost broken. This rude application of the maxim, 
“ Every one for himself,” the gospel of every capital, 
gave Cesar reason to consider life in Paris a hard one. 
At night, he wept as he thought of la Touraine where 
the peasant works at his ease, where the mason lays his 
stone and takes his own time, and where leisure and 
labor are discreetly mingled ; but he went to sleep with- 
out thinking of running away, for he had more errands 
for the following morning, and he obeyed his instruc- 
tions with the instinct of a watch-dog. When, by 


30 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


chance, he complained, the head clerk smiled in a jovial 
way and said : 

“ Everything is not rose-colored even at the Queen of 
Roses, and larks don’t fall here cooked ; you must run 
after them first, catch them afterwards, and finally have 
something to dress them with.” 

The cook, a fat girl from Picardy, took the best pieces 
herself and only spoke to Cesar to complain of M. and 
Madame Ragon, who gave her no chance to feather her 
nest. Towards the end of the first month, being obliged 
to stay at home one Sunday, she entered into conversa- 
tion with Cesar. Ursule, tidied up in honor of the day, 
looked quite charming to the poor shop-boy, who, 
unless chance aided him, was destined to go to pieces 
upon the first hidden reef he should meet with in his 
career. Like all who are without protection, he fell in 
love with the first woman who looked kindly upon him. 
The cook took Cesar under her wing, and a secret romance 
ensued, which the clerks pitilessly ridiculed. Two 
years afterwards, the cook fortunately abandoned 
Cesar for a young runaway from her village, who had 
hidden himself at Paris, a Picard of twenty years, the 
owner of a few acres of land, and who allowed Ursule 
to marry him. 

During these two years, the cook had fed Cesar well, 
and had explained to him several mysteries of Paris life, 
observed from her own point of view, and, through jeal- 
ousy, had inculcated a profund aversion for certain 
improper places, the dangers of which did not seem 
altogether unknown to her. In 1792, the feet of the 
deserted Cesar had become accustomed to the pave- 
ment, his shoulders to his burden, and his mind to what 
he called the shams and quackeries of Paris. So when 
Ursule abandoned him, he was speedily consoled, for 


OF o£sae bikotteau. 


31 


she had realized none of his instinctive ideas on the sub- 
ject of the sentiments. She was coarse and churlish, 
wheeling and filching, selfish and intemperate, and 
shocked Birotteau’s simplicity without giving him, in 
return, the slightest pleasing perspective. Sometimes, 
Cesar meditated with grief upon his connection, by ties 
the strongest for unsophisticated natures, with a 
creature with whom he had no sympathy. At the time 
when he became master of his own heart, he had grown 
tall and reached the age of sixteen. His wits having 
been developed by Ursule, and the pleasantries of the 
clerks, he devoted himself to the study of trade with a 
demeanor in which intelligence was concealed beneath 
simplicity ; he observed the customers, asked at odd 
moments explanations in regard to the merchandise, and 
fixed in his memory the names and places of the differ- 
ent articles. At length he understood the goods, their 
marks and prices better than the new-comers, and from 
that time Monsieur and Madame Ragon became accus- 
tomed to employ him. 

The day when the terrible requisition of the Year II 
.cleared citizen Ragon’s house of assistants, Cesar 
Birotteau, promoted to the place of second clerk, pro- 
fited by this circumstance to obtain a salary of fifty 
francs a month, and took his seat at the table of the 
Ragons with unspeakable joy. The second clerk of the 
Queen of Roses, already rich in the possession of six 
hundred francs, had a chamber, where, in long coveted 
articles of furniture, he could lock up his accumulated 
effects. On holidays, this mild and modest peasant, 
dressed like the young people of the period, with whom 
it was the fashion to affect rough manners, wore an air 
that rendered him at least their equal, and he thus over- 
leaped the barriers that in other times his situation 


32 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


would have placed between the bourgeoisie and him 
Toward the close of this year, he was made cashier on 
account of his integrity. The imposing lady on 
attended to the needs of his wardrobe, and she and her 
husband became gradually intimate with him. 

In Vendemiaire, 1794, Cesar, who had two thousand 
francs in gold, exchanged them for six thousand francs 
in paper ; purchased state stocks at thirty francs in the 
hundred, paid for them the very day when the depre- 
ciation at the exchange reached the lowest point in the 
scale, and locked up his certificate with indescribable 
happiness. From this day he watched the movement of 
the funds and of business with a secret anxiety, that 
made his heart beat at the recital of the reverses and 
successes which marked this period of French history. 
Monsieur Ragon, perfumer to Her Majesty, Queen Marie 
Antoinette, entrusted Cesar Birotteau, at these critical 
moments, with the knowledge of his attachment for the 
fallen tyrants. This confidence was one of the momen- 
tous circumstances of Cesar’s life. The conversations 
at evening, when the shop was closed, the street silent, 
and the accounts made up, made a fanatic of the Tou- 
rainer who, in becoming a royalist, was but obeying his 
innate feelings. The recital of the virtuous acts of Louis 
XVI, the anecdotes with which the tradesman ^nd his 
wife exalted the merits of the queen, warmed Cesar’s 
imagination. The terrible lot of these two crowned 
heads, cut off but a few paces from the store, revolted 
his sensitive heart, and filled him with hatred for a sys- 
tem of government so ready to shed innocent blood. 
Commercial interest showed him that prices fixed by 
decree, that political storms, which are always unfavora- 
ble to business, must be the death of trade. Besides, as 
a true perfumer, he hated a revolution that introduced 


OF CESAR BIROTTEATJ. 


33 


a new style of hair-dressing, and drove powder out of 
fashion. The tranquility secured by absolute power 
being alone able to give vitality to money, he became a 
fanatic royalist. When Monsieur Ragon saw that he was 
favorably disposed, he appointed him first clerk, and ini- 
tiated him into the secrets of the Queen of Roses, some 
of whose customers were the most active and devoted 
emissaries of the Bourbons, and where the correspon- 
dence between the fugitives and Paris was carried on. 
Borne away by the warmth of youth, excited by his rela- 
tions with the Georges, the Billardieres, the Montaurans, 
the Bauvans, the Longuys, the Mandas, the Berniers, the 
du Guenics and the Fontaines, Cesar threw himself into 
the conspiracy leveled by the united Royalists and ter- 
rorists on the 13th Vendemiaire against the expiring 
Convention. 

Cesar had the honor of contending against Napoleon 
on the steps of St. Roch, and was wounded at the outset 
of the affair. Every one knows the result of this attempt. 
While the aid-de-camp of Barras emerged from his 
obscurity, Birotteau was saved by his. Some of his 
friends bore the bellicose first clerk to the Queen of 
Rose* where he remained concealed in the garret, his 
wounds being dressed by Madame Ragon, and he him- 
self luckily forgotten. Cesar Birotteau had had but a 
single flash of military courage. During the month of 
his convalescence, he made many solid reflections upon 
the ridiculous alliance of politics and perfumery. If he 
remained a royalist, he resolved to be simply and purely 
a royalist perfumer, without ever again compromising 
himself, and gave himself body and soul to his business. 

On the 18th Brumaire, Monsieur and Madame Ragon, 
despairing of the royal cause, decided to abandon per- 
fumery, and to live like honest bourgeois, without med- 


34 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


dling further with politics. In order to realize the value 
of their stock, they deemed it necessary to find a man of 
more probity than ambition, of plain good sense rather 
than capacity. Ragon, therefore, proposed the matter to 
his first clerk. Birotteau, possessing, at twenty years of 
age, an income of a thousand francs from the public 
funds, hesitated. It was his ambition to retire to Chinon 
when he had secured an income of fifteen hundred 
francs, and when the first Consul had consolidated the 
public debt while consolidating himself at the Tuileries. 
Why risk his honest and simple independence in the 
chances of trade ? He had never thought to accumulate 
so large a fortune, and he owed it to hazards upon which 
none but the young ever venture. His fancy then was to 
marry a woman as rich as himself in Touraine, in order 
to be able to purchase and cultivate the Tre^orieres, a 
small estate, which, from his youth up, he had coveted, 
which he dreamed of increasing, and from which he 
could easily derive an income of three thousand francs, 
and lead a life of happy obscurity. He was about to 
•refuse, when love all of a sudden changed his resolution 
by increasing ten-fold the figure of his ambition. 

Since his betrayal by Ursule, Cesar had remained vir- 
tuous, as much through fear of the dangers incurred at 
Paris, in love, as by his constant occupations. When the 
passions are without aliment, they are changed into 
needs ; marriage then becomes, for people of the middle 
class, a fixed idea ; for this is the only means they have 
of winning and appropriating a woman. This was the 
case with Cesar Birotteau. Everything depended upon 
the first clerk at the Queen of Roses ; he had not a 
moment to spare for pleasure. In such a life the needs 
are still more imperious ; so that his meeting with a 
beautiful girl, to whom a libertine clerk would have 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


35 


given scarcely a thought, naturally produced the greatest 
effect upon the virtuous Cesar. 

One fine day in June, on entering the island of Saint- 
Louis by the Marie bridge, he saw a young girl standing 
in the door of a shop situated at the corner of the Quai 
d’Anjou. Constance Pillerault was the head shop-girl 
of a fancy store called the Sailor-Boy, the first of those 
stores which have since been established at Paris, with 
a greater or less number of painted signs, floating ban- 
ners, show-cases of gracefully suspended shawls, cravats 
built up like card houses, and a thousand other commer- 
cial attractions, fixed prices, scrolls, placards, optical illu- 
sions and effects carried to such a degree of perfection 
that shop-fronts have become commercial poems. The 
low price of all the so-called fancy articles that were 
sold at the Sailor-Boy gave it a popularity unheard of 
in a quarter of Paris so unfavorable to fashion and tirade. 
This shop-girl was then noted for her beauty, as the belle 
limonadiere of the cafe des Mille-Colonnes and many 
other poor creatures, have been noted since, and toward 
whom more noses, young and old, have been pointed, at 
the windows of milliners, etc., than there are paving 
stones in the streets of Paris. The head clerk of the 
Queen of Roses, living between St. Roch and the Rue 
de la Sourdiere, exclusively occupied with perfumery, 
had no suspicion of the existence of the Sailor-Boy ; for 
the small trades of Paris are quite unknown to each 
other. 

Cesar was so intensely smitten with the beauty of 
Constance that he rushed into the Sailor-Boy for the 
purpose of purchasing half a dozen linen shirts, the price 
of which he discussed a long time, having many a piece 
of linen unrolled, like an English woman in the humor 
of shopping. The shop-girl deigned to pay Cesar some 


36 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


attention, perceiving by certain signs known to all 
women that he had come for the sake of the merchant 
rather than for that of the merchandise. He gave her 
his name and address, but she became very indifferent 
to the admiration of her customer after his purchase. 
The poor clerk had Had no difficulty in winning the 
favors of Ursule, and had remained perfectly unsophis- 
ticated ever since. Love now made him sillier still, and 
he did not dare to utter a word, and moreover was too 
much dazzled to remark the indifference that followed 
the smile of this syren sales-woman. 

During a whole week, he went every evening to stand 
sentry before the Sailor-Boy begging a look as a dog 
begs a bone at the kitchen door, careless of the mock- 
eries indulged in by the clerks and shop-girls, humbly 
getting out of the way of purchasers and passers-by, 
and deeply attentive to the petty revolutions of the 
shop. Some days afterwards he again entered the para- 
dise where his angel was, less for the purpose of pur- 
chasing some handkerchiefs than of communicating to 
her a brilliant idea. 

“ If you want any perfumery, miss, I shall be happy 
to furnish you with it,” he said, paying her for the 
handkerchiefs. 

Constance Pillerault was in the daily receipt of brilliant 
propositions, in which, however, the subject of marriage 
was never alluded to ; and, although her heart was as 
pure as her forehead was white, it was not until after 
six months of manoeuvering, of marching and counter- 
marching, wherein Cesar manifested his tireless love, 
that she deigned to accept his attentions, though still un- 
willing to decide ; a precaution dictated by the infinite 
number of her admirers — wholesale wine-merchants, 
rich coffee-house-keepers and others, who regarded 'her 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


37 


with languishingeyes. The lover was aided by the guard- 
ian of Constance, Monsieur _ Claude-Joseph Pillerault, 
then an ironmonger on the Quai de la Ferraille, whom 
he had discovered while abandoning himself to that 
secret espionage which marks true love. The rapidity 
of this narrative compels us to pass over in silence the 
joys of Parisian love when that love is innocent, and to 
say nothing of the prodigalities peculiar to clerks — 
presents of early melons, sumptuous dinners at Venua’s 
followed by the theatre, and holiday drives to the 
country. 

While Cesar was not a handsome young man, there 
was nothing in his looks of a character to prevent his 
being an object of love. His life in Paris, and his con- 
finement in a gloomy shop, had finally extinguished the 
peasant tint of his complexion. His thick, dark hair, 
his huge Norman shoulders and chest, his strong limbs, 
his simple and honest look, all contributed to pre- 
possess people in his favor. Uncle Pillerault, whose 
duty it was to protect the happiness of his brother’s 
daughter, had made inquiries about Cesar, and now 
sanctioned his intentions. In 1800, in the beautiful 
month of May, Mademoiselle Pillerault consented to 
espouse Cesar Birotteau, who fainted with joy the mo- 
ment when, under a linden tree, at Sceaux, Constance- 
Barbe-Josephine accepted him for her husband. 

“My child,” said Monsieur Pillerault, “ you will get a 
good husband. He has a warm heart and honorable 
feelings ; he is as frank as an osier, and virtuous as a wax 
cherub, — in short, the king of good fellows.” 

Constance unhesitatingly relinquished the brilliant 
prospects of which, like all shop-girls, she had some- 
times dreamed ; she desired to be an honest wife and a 
good mother, and took that course in life which is in ac- 


38 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


cordance with the religious notions of the middle class. 
This path, moreover, suited her ideas much better than 
the dangerous vanities that seduce the fancy of so many 
young Parisiennes. Constance, with her narrow intel- 
lect, might be regarded as the type of the small house- 
keeper, whose labor is never without an admixture of 
fretfulness, who refuses at the outset what she most de- 
sires, and is vexed when taken at her word, whose rest- 
less activity seeks employment both in the kitchen and 
at the ledger, in the gravest affairs of life as well as in 
the minutest cares of the wardrobe, who loves best 
when she scolds, conceives no ideas but the simplest 
— the small change of the mind — reasons upon every- 
thing, fears everything, calculates everything, and al- 
ways thinks of the future. Her cold yet candid beauty, 
her touching look, her freshness, prevented Birotteau 
from thinking of certain defects ; defects, however, 
counterbalanced by that delicate probity natural to 
women, by her excessive love of order, by her ardor for 
work, and a positive genius for effecting sales. Con- 
stance was then eighteen years of age, and possessed 
eleven thousand francs. Cesar, whose love had inspired 
him with the most excessive ambition, purchased the 
stock of the Queen of Roses, and removed it to a beau- 
tiful building near the Place Vendome. Only twenty- 
one years of age, married to a beautiful woman whom 
he adored, possessor of an establishment which was 
three-quarters paid for, Cesar was in duty bound to re- 
gard, and he did regard, the future as bright, especially 
when he remembered how far he had already advanced. 
Roguin, the notary of the Ragons, who drew up the 
marriage contract, gave the new perfumer wise counsel 
in advising him not to complete the payment for the 
stock with the dowry of his wife. 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


39 


“ Keep, my good fellow,” he said to him, “ the means 
wherewith to engage in promising speculations.” 

Birotteau regarded the notary with admiration, got 
in the habit of consulting him, and made him his friend. 
Like Ragon and Pillerault, he had so much faith in the 
notariat, that he abandoned himself to Roguin without 
entertaining a suspicion. Thanks to his counsel, Cesar, 
with the eleven thousand francs of Constance for com- 
mencing business, would not have exchanged his pros- 
pects for those of the first Consul, however brilliant 
Napoleon’s prospects might seem to be. Birotteau had 
no domestics except a cook ; he lived in the entre-sol* 
over his shop, a sort of close, narrow room, tolerably 
furnished by an upholsterer, and wherein the newly- 
married pair began a perpetual honey-moon. Madame 
Cesar produced a marvellous effect behind the counter. 
Her famous beauty had an enormous influence on the 
sales ; “ the beautiful Madame Birotteau ” was all the 
rage among the elegants of the empire. 

Though Cesar was accused of royalism, the world 
rendered justice to his probity ; though several neigh- 
boring tradesmen envied him his good fortune, he 
passed as being worthy of it. The shot he had received 
on the steps of Saint-Roch gave him the reputation of a 
man in the secrets of politics and of a man of courage, 
although he had no courage in his heart, and not a 
political idea in his head. Upon these grounds, the 
honest people of his ward made him captain in the 
National Guard, but he was rejected by Napoleon, who, 
according to Birotteau, owed him a grudge on account 

* An entre-sol is a low story between the ground floor and the 
first story of a house. So that in a house containing an entre- 
sol, the first story is up two pair of stairs. 


40 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


of their meeting in Vendemiaire. Cesar thus had a 
coating of the cheap varnish of persecution, and that 
made him interesting in the eyes of opponents, and gave 
him a certain importance. 

What the lot of this household was, so invariably 
happy as far as sentiment was concerned, and only 
agitated by commercial anxiety, may be briefly told. 

During the first- year Cesar Birotteau instructed his 
wife in the art of retailing perfumery, for which she 
showed a remarkable aptitude ; she seemed to have 
been created and brought into the world on purpose to 
glove customers. At the close of the year, the inventory 
alarmed the ambitious perfumer; all expenses being de- 
ducted, he would scarcely net in twenty years the modest 
sum of one hundred thousand francs, at which figure he 
had fixed the limits of his fortune. He then resolved to 
arrive at the end desired more rapidly ; and determined 
to add manufacturing to retailing. Against the advice 
of his wife, he hired a building and a few lots in the 
Faubourg du Temple, and there had a sign put up in 
large letters, thus : Cesar Birotteau’s Factory. He 
enticed from Grasse a workman with whom he com- 
menced on joint account the manufacture of soaps, 
essences and Cologne water. His partnership with this 
workman continued but six months and ended with 
losses, the whole of which he sustained. Not yet dis- 
couraged, Birotteau resolved to obtain a result at what- 
ever price, for the sole purpose of not being scolded by 
his wife, to whom he afterwards confessed that in this 
period of despair his head boiled like a porridge-pot, 
and that several times, had it not been for his religious 
feelings, he should have thrown himself into the Seine. 

Saddened by his fruitless experiments, he was one 
day idling along the Boulevards on his way home to 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


41 


dinner — for the Parisian idler is as often a man in 
despair as a man of leisure ; among some books at 
six sous apiece, displayed in a box on the ground, his 
eyes were attracted by the following title, yellow with 
dust : Abdeker, or the Art of Preserving Beauty . He 
took up this pretended Arabian book — a sort of 
romance written by a physician of the last century — 
and fell upon a passage treating of perfumes. Lean- 
ing against a tree on the Boulevard for the purpose of 
running over the pages, his eye caught a note wherein 
the author explained the nature of the derm and the 
epiderm, and demonstrated that such and such a paste 
or such and such a soap often produced an effect con- 
trary to what was expected ; the paste and soap giving 
tone to skin that needed to be relaxed, or relaxing skin 
that required a tonic. 

Birotteau purchased this book, in which he saw a for- 
tune. Nevertheless, not very confident in his own 
knowledge, he went to the celebrated chemist, Vauque- 
lin, whom he quite naively asked for the means of com- 
pounding a double cosmetic that should produce effects 
adapted to the different natures of the human skin. 
Truly learned men, those men so really great that they 
never obtain during their life-time the renown which 
severe and unknown labors deserve, are almost always 
ready to render service and to smile upon the poor in 
spirit. Vauquelin therefore helped the perfumer, allowed 
him to call himself the inventor of a paste for whitening 
the hands, the composition of which he indicated. 
Birotteau call edthis cosmetic Concentrated Sultana 
Paste. In order to complete the work, he applied the 
formula of the paste for the hands to a water for the 
complexion, which he called Carminative Water. He 
imitated in his own line of business the system of the 


4:2 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


Sailor-Boy ; he was the first perfumer to display that 
luxury of hand-bills, advertisements, and other means of 
publicity perhaps unjustly denominated charlatanism. 

The Sultana Paste and the Carminative Water were 
ushered into the world of gallantry and trade by colored 
hand-bills, at the head of which were these words : 
Approved by the Institute ! This formula, employed for 
the first time, had a magical effect. Not only France, but 
the continent, was emblazoned with hand-bills, red, yel- 
low, and blue, by the sovereign of the Queen of Roses, 
who kept, furnished and manufactured, at moderate 
prices, whatever pertained to his trade. At a period 
when nothing was talked of but the East, it was cer- 
tainly an inspiration to call a cosmetic Sultana Paste, 
thus divining the magic which these words would work 
in a country where every man strives to be a sultan, as 
well as every woman to be a sultana ; and it was an 
inspiration that might have struck an ordinary man as 
well as a man of intellect ; but the public always fudges 
by results, and Birotteau obtained farther credit as a 
superior man, commercially speaking, by drawing up a 
prospectus, the ridiculous phraseology of which was 
itself an element of success. In France, people only 
laugh at things and men in which they are inter- 
ested, and no one is interested in what does not suc- 
ceed. Although stupidity had been no part of Birot- 
teau’s design, yet people credited him with the talent of 
knowing how to play the stupid apropos. A copy of this 
prospectus has been found, though not without trouble, 
in the house of Popinot & Co., Rue des Lombards. This 
curious document belongs to that class which, in a higher 
department of literature, historians call “ Pieces Jus- 
tificatives.” Here it is : 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


43 


CESAR BIROTTEAU’S 

—CONCENTRATED SULTANA PASTE— 

AND 

—CARMINATIVE WATER.— 

A WONDERFUL DISCOVERY ! 

Approved by the French Institute . 

“For a long time a paste for the hands, and a water 
for the face, affording a result superior to that obtained 
by Eau de Cologne in the labor of the toilet, has been 
generally desired by the two sexes in Europe. After 
having devoted long meditations to the study of the 
derm and epiderm in both sexes, who, the one as well as 
the other, rightly attach the greatest value to softness, 
suppleness, brilliancy, velvetiness of the skin, Monsieur 
Birotteau, a perfumer favorably known in the capital 
and abroad, has discovered a Paste and a Water which 
were justly called, on their first appearance, 4 miraculous/ 
by the beaux and belles of Paris. In fact, this Paste and 
this Water possess astonishing properties ; they act upon 
the skin, without prematurely wrinkling it — an effect 
inevitable in the drugs inconsiderately employed hith- 
erto, and invented by the ignorant and mercenary. This 
discovery is based upon the distinction of temperaments, 
which may be divided into two great classes, indicated 
by the color of the Paste and the Water, which are red 
for the derm and epiderm of persons of a lymphatic con- 
stitution, and white for those of persons enjoying a 
sanguine temperament. 


44 THE OREATNESS AND DECLINE 

“ This paste is called Sultana Paste , because the dis- 
covery was originally made for the seraglio by an Ara- 
bian physician. It has been approved by the Institute 
on the report of our illustrious chemist Vauquelin, as 
well as the water, which is established upon the princi- 
ples that have determined the composition of the Paste. 

“ This precious Paste, which exhales the sweetest per- 
fumes, dispels the most rebellious freckles, whitens the 
most obstinate epiderm, and drives away the sweat of 
the hands — an affliction of which women complain as 
well as men. 

‘‘The Carminative Water removes the pimples which 
at certain times unexpectedly break out upon ladies, and 
disarrange their plans for balls ; it refreshes and revivi- 
fies the color by opening or closing the pores according 
to the exigencies of temperament ; it is already so well 
known for arresting the ravages of time that many ladies 
have, through gratitude, called it the friend of beauty. 

“Cologne water is purely and simply an ordinary 
perfume without special efficacy, whilst the Concentrate d 
Sultana Paste and the Carminative Water are two highly 
active compositions, with a motive power acting without 
danger upon the internal qualities and assisting them ; 
their essentially balsamic odor and exhilarating essence 
rejoice the heart and brain wonderfully ; they charm the 
ideas, and even awaken them ; they are as astonishing 
for their merit as for their simplicity ; in short, they form 
a new attraction offered to women, and an additional 
means of fascination that men may possess themselves of. 

“The daily use of the Water dissipates the irritation 
caused by the heat of shaving ; it equally preserves the 
lips from chaps, and keeps them red ; it naturally eradi- 
cates freckles by constant use, and in the end restores 
tone to the flesh. These effects always indicate in man 


OF CESAR BIROTTEATT. 


45 


a perfect equilibrium between the humors, a state of 
things which has a tendency to deliver persons subject 
to megrim from that terrible malady. In short, the 
Carminative Water , which may be emp^^ed by ladies in 
every part of their toilet, prevents cutaneous affections, 
whilst it causes no injury to the transpiration of the 
tissues, and communicates to them an abiding velvet. 

“ Address, post paid, Monsieur Cesar Birotteau, succes- 
sor of Ragon, ex-perfumer to Queen Marie Antoinette, 
at the Queen of Roses, Rue Saint Honore, Paris, near the 
Place Vendome. 

“ The price of a roll of Paste is three francs, and that 
of the bottle is six francs. 

“ Monsieur Cesar Birotteau warns the public, in order to shun 
counterfeits, that the Paste is enveloped in a paper bearing his 
signature, and that the bottles have a seal blown in the glass.” 

The success was due, though Cesar was far from sus- 
pecting it, to Constance, who advised him to send cases 
of the Carminative Water and the Sultana Paste to all 
the perfumers of France and the neighboring countries, 
offering them a discount of thirty per cent, if they would 
take the two articles by the gross. The Paste and the 
Water were, in reality, better than other similar cosmet- 
ics, and attracted the ignorant by the distinction estab- 
lished between the temperaments ; each of the five 
hundred perfumers of France, allured by the profit 
offered, annually bought more than three hundred gross 
of the Paste and Water, a consumption that brought 
Cesar small gains, indeed, for a single article, but in the 
a gg re g ate > enormous profits. Cesar was thus able to 
purchase the dilapidated buildings and the lots of the 
Faubourg du Temple ; he built large factories there, and 


46 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


decorated the Queen of Roses magnificently ; his house- 
hold affairs underwent various little ameliorations, and 
his .wife was no longer in trepidation about the future. 

In 1810, Madame Cesar, foreseeing a rise in rents, 
urged her husband to take a lease of the whole house 
in which they occupied the shop and the entre-sol, and 
to move up to the first floor. A happy circumstance 
decided Constance to shut her eyes to the foolish expense 
that Birotteau was incurring for her sake in the new 
apartments. The perfumer had just been elected Judge 
in the Tribunal of Commerce. His probity, his well- 
known sense of honor, and the consideration he enjoyed, 
procured him this dignity ; he was henceforth classed 
among the notable tradesmen of Paris. In order to 
increase his knowledge, he rose at five o’clock in the 
morning, to read the records of jurisprudence and such 
books as treated of mercantile litigation. His sense of 
justice, his rectitude, his aim to do right — essential 
qualities in the settlement of difficulties submitted to 
consular decision — rendered him one of the most es- 
teemed judges. His defects equally contributed to his 
reputation. Feeling his inferiority, Cesar willingly made 
his own views subordinate to those of his colleagues, 
who were flattered by being thus earnestly listened to ; 
some sought the silent approbation of a man regarded 
as profound, in his quality of listener ; others, charmed 
by his modesty and mildness, spoke in his praise. 
Those amenable to the court extolled his benevolence 
and his conciliatory spirit ; he was often chosen arbiter, 
and his good sense as often suggested decisions equal 
to those of a Cadi. During his tenure of office, he man- 
aged to invent a language well crammed with common- 
places, and studded with axioms and calculations 
rendered in rounded phrases, which, glibly uttered, 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


47 


sounded to the ears of superficial persons like eloquence. 
He thus pleased that large majority of minds of average 
talent, perpetually condemned to toil and to narrow views. 
Cesar lost so much time in the court that his wife con- 
strained him henceforth to decline so costly an honor. 

Towards 1813, thanks to its constant union, and after 
having jogged along in life after the ordinary fashion, 
the commencement of an era of prosperity that 
nothing seemed likely to interrupt, dawned upon 
the family. Monsieur and Madame Ragon, their pre- 
decessors, their uncle Pillerault, Roguin the notary, the 
Matifats, druggists of the Rue des Lombards, furnishers 
to the Queen of Roses, Joseph Lebas, a draper, and suc- 
cessor of the Guillaumes at the Cat and Battledore, 
one of the lights of the Rue Saint-Denis, Judge Popinot, 
brother of Madame Ragon, Chiffreville, of the house of 
Proiltez & Chiffreville, Monsieur and Madame Cochin, 
employees in the Treasury and silent partners of the 
Matifats, the abbe Loraux, confessor and director of the 
pious people of this coterie, and some other persons, 
constituted the circle of their friends. In spite of the 
royalist sentiments of Birotteau, public opinion was 
then in his favor ; he was considered very rich, although 
he did not yet possess more than a hundred thousand 
francs outside of his business. The regularity of his af- 
fairs, his exactness, his habit of owing nothing, of never 
raising money on his own note, but, on the contrary,, of 
taking good paper from those whom he might accommo- 
date, in payment, and his willingness to oblige, deserv- 
edly gave him high credit. He had, indeed, really 
gained a great deal of money ; but his buildings and 
the expense of his factories had absorbed much of it. 
Then his house cost him nearly twenty thousand francs 
a year. Lastly, the education of Cesarine, an only 


48 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


daughter, idolized by Constance as well as by himself, 
necessitated considerable expenditure. Neither the 
husband nor the wife regarded money in affording 
pleasure to their daughter, with whom they had never 
been willing to part. Imagine the joy of the poor par- 
venu peasant, when he heard his charming Cesarine 
practising upon her piano one of Steibelt’s sonatas, or 
singing a ballad ; when he saw her writing the French 
language correctly ; when he admired her reading Ra- 
cine, whose beauties she explained, designing a land- 
scape, or making a sepia-sketch. What happiness for 
him to live again in a flower so beautiful, so pure, that 
had not left the maternal stem, an angel, in short, 
whose budding graces, whose earliest development, he 
had eagerly watched ; an only daughter, incapable of 
despising her father or ridiculing his want of education, 
so truly was she a young lady ! 

When Cesar came to Paris, he could read, write and 
cipher ; his education stopped there, his laborious life 
had hindered him from acquiring any ideas and knowl- 
edge foreign to the business of perfumery. Constantly 
mingling with people who were indifferent to science 
and letters, whose education did not go beyond speciali- 
ties ; having no time to devote to elevating studies, the 
perfumer became a practical man. He was forced to 
adopt the language, errors, opinions of the Parisian 
bourgeois — the class who admire Moliere, Voltaire and 
Rousseau on faith, who purchase their works without 
reading them ; who maintain that it is proper to say 
ormoire , because ladies lock up in those articles of fur- 
niture their or (gold) and their dresses which formerly 
were almost always made of moire , and that armoire is a 
corruption. 

Potier, Talma, Mademoiselle Mars, were, the bour- 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


49 


geojs believes, millionaires ten times over, and did not 
live like other human beings ; the great tragedian ate 
raw flesh ; Mademoiselle Mars sometimes made a fric- 
assee of pearls, in imitation of a celebrated Egyptian 
actress. The Emperor had leather pockets in his waist- 
coats to enable him to take snuff by the handful, and rode 
at full gallop up the stairs of the orangery at Versailles. 
Authors and artists died in the hospital in consequence 
of their oddities ; they were, besides, all atheists, whom 
it behooved people not to admit into their houses. 
Joseph Lebas cited, with a shudder, the history of his 
sister-in-law Augustine’s marriage with the painter 
Sommervieux. Astronomers lived on spiders. These lum- 
inous specimens of their knowledge of the French lan- 
guage, of dramatic art, politics, literature and science, 
indicate the scope of their intellects. A poet, who passes 
along the Rue des Lombards, and inhales the pervading 
perfumes, may dream of Asia there. Breathing the 
odor of vetyver in a green-house, he may behold the 
almees of the East. The splendors of cochineal remind 
him of the poems, the religion, the castes of the Brah- 
mins. Coming in contact with unwrought ivory, he 
mounts, in imagination, upon the back of an elephant, 
and there, in a muslin pavilion, makes love like the king 
of Lahore. But the shop-keeper is ignorant whence 
come the articles in which he deals and where they 
grow. Birotteau knew nothing whatever of natural his- 
tory or chemistry. In regarding Vauquelin as a great 
man, he considered him as an exception ; he resembled 
the retired grocer who thus shrewdly summed up a dis- 
cussion on the way in which tea is brought to France : 
“Tea comes only in two ways, by caravan or by Havre.” 
According to Birotteau, aloes and opium were to be 
found only in the Rue des Lombards. The pretended 


50 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


rose-water of Constantinople was made, like Cologne 
water, at Paris. These names of places were shams, 
invented to please the French, who cannot endure the 
productions of their own country. A French merchant 
was bound to call his discovery English in order to 
make it popular, as in England a druggist attributes his to 
France. Nevertheless, Cesar could not be quite a dunce 
and a blockhead; integrity and benevolence gave respect- 
ability to the acts of his life, for a good deed obliterates 
any amount of ignorance. His constant success gave 
him assurance. At Paris, assurance is accepted for the 
power of which it is the sign. 

Having thoroughly learned the character of Cesar 
during the first three years of their married life, his wife 
was in a constant fever of anxiety ; she represented, in 
this union, the part of sagacity and foresight, doubt 
hesitation, fear ; as Cesar represented that of audacity, 
ambition, action, and the extraordinary success of fatal- 
ity. In spite of appearances, the tradesman was timid 
whilst his wife possessed real patience and courage. 
Thus, a narrow-minded and ordinary man, without 
education, without ideas, without knowledge, without 
decided character, who, on general principles, could 
not have succeeded in the most uncertain market in the 
world, came, by his discreet conduct, by his sentiment 
of justice, by his truly Christian goodness of heart, by 
his love for the only woman whom he had ever pos- 
sessed, to be regarded as a remarkable man, as one 
courageous and full of resolution. The public saw the 
results only. His associates, with the exception of Pil- 
lerault and Judge Popinot, saw Cesar but superficially, 
and could not form an opinion of him. Besides, the 
twenty or thirty friends who associated with each 
other were constantly uttering the same stupidities, re- 


51 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 

peating the same common-places, and all regarded each 
other as superior beings in their own walks of life. The 
women vied with each other in dinners and dress ; each 
one of them had said all she knew when she had said a word 
of contempt for her husband. Madame Birotteau alone 
had the good sense to treat hers with honor and respect 
in public; she saw in him a man who, in spite of his 
secret incapacity, had acquired their fortune, and in 
whose consideration she participated. She sometimes 
asked herself, however, what the world could be, if all 
men of pretended superiority resembled her husband. 
Such conduct contributed not a little to sustain the 
respectful esteem awarded to a tradesman, in a country 
where women are so prone to bring their husbands into 
disrespect and to complain of them in public. 

The early portion of the year 1814, so fatal to imperial 
France, was signalized at Birotteau’s by two events, not 
very remarkable in any other household, but of a nature 
to make an impression upon simple-hearted people like 
Cesar and his wife, who, as they looked back over the 
past, discovered none but pleasing emotions. They 
had taken a young man at twenty-two as head- 
clerk. His name was Ferdinand du Tillet. This youth, 
who had left a perfumery establishment upon receiving 
the owner’s refusal to give him an interest in the busi- 
ness, and who passed for a genius, had taken a good 
deal of trouble to get in at the Queen of Roses, with the 
character and habits of whose occupants he was well 
acquainted. Birotteau took him and gave him a salary of 
one thousand francs, with the intention of making him 
his successor. Ferdinand had so great an influence on 
the destiny of this family, that some account of him is 
necessary here. 

He had, at the outset, stated that his name was simply 


52 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


Ferdinand, that this was his family name. This anony- 
mous character seemed highly advantageous to him at 
the period when Napoleon was pressing families for 
recruits. Nevertheless, he had certainly been born some- 
where. The few facts that had come to light in regard to 
his civil state, may be briefly stated. In 1793, a poorgirl 
of Tillet — a small place near the Andelys — had brought 
forth a child in the night, in the garden of J:he curate 
of the Tillet Church, and then, after having rapped upon 
the shutters, had drowned herself. The good priest 
received the infant, named it after the saint figuring in 
the calendar for that day, fed and brought it up as his 
own child. The curate died in 1804, without leaving 
sufficient means to complete the education he had begun. 
Ferdinand, cast unprotected into Paris, led a roving life, 
the chances of which might bring him to the scaffold or 
to fortune, to the bar, the army, trade, or domestic service. 
Ferdinand, obliged to live after the fashion of Figaro, 
became first a commercial traveler, then a clerk in a 
perfumery establishment at Paris, to which he returned 
after having run over France, studied the world, and 
resolved to succeed in it at any price. In 1813, he judged 
it necessary to prove his age and establish his civil state, 
and petitioned the tribunal of the Andelys to order the 
transfer of the record of his baptism from the registry 
of the parish to that of the civil court. He also 
obtained an amendment of the record, getting the name 
du Tillet inserted, a name under which he had become 
known, and which was justified by his having been a 
foundling in the commune. Without father or mother, 
with no other guardian than the imperial attorney-gen- 
eral, alone in the world, amenable to no one, he found 
society a step-mother, and gave it no quarter. He knew 
no guide but self-interest, and every avenue to fortune 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


53 


seemed to him good. A Norman by birth, possessed of 
dangerous capacity, he added to his eagerness for suc- 
cess, the hard and churlish characteristics for which, 
rightly or wrongly, his countrymen are reproached. 
Wheedling manners concealed his wrangling spirit, for 
he was the rudest of judicial bullies ; but while he 
audaciously contested the rights of others, he did not 
yield one iota of his own ; he could bide his time, and 
wear out his adversary by his inflexible perseverance. 
His principal merit was that of the Scapins in the old 
comedy ; he possessed their fertility of resources, their 
address in keeping on the safe side of the law, their 
itching to take what it is good to keep. In short, he 
was resolved to apply to his own penury the expression 
employed by the Abbe Terray in the name of the state, 
— free to become an honest man, afterwards. Endowed 
with a passionate activity, with a military intrepidity in 
demanding of every one a good as well as a bad action, 
and justifying his demand upon the theory of personal 
interest, he despised men too much in believing them all 
corruptible, was too unscrupulous in the choice of 
means, regarding all means as good, and had fixed his 
eye too steadfastly upon success and money as the ab- 
solution of any moral machinery that he might employ, 
not to succeed sooner or later. Such a man, placed 
between wealth and the state-prison, was naturally vindic- 
tive, absolute, swift in his determinations, but as dis- 
simulating as an arch conspirator who would cut off the 
head of probity herself. His profundity was concealed 
beneath a light and mocking exterior. Though a simple 
clerk in a perfumery shop, he set no bounds to his ambi- 
tion ; casting a glance of hatred upon society, he had said 
to himself : “ Thou shalt be mine !” He had sworn not 


54 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


to marry till he was forty years of age, and he kept his 
word. 

In personal appearance, Ferdinand was tall and of 
slender make, and of agreeable form ; his manners, 
neither one thing nor the other, enabled him to assume 
at need the diapason of any society into which he was 
thrown. His weasel face was pleasing enough at first 
sight ; but persons who were much in his company dis- 
cerned upon it that strange expression often observed 
in people ill at ease with themselves, and whose con- 
sciences complain at certain hours. An exceedingly 
vivid tint beneath his soft Norman skin gave a sour hue 
to his complexion. His wall-eyed look was generally 
furtive, but when he fixed it directly upon his victim, 
terrible. His voice seemed extinct, like the voice of a 
man who has been a long time speaking. His thin lips 
were not wanting in beauty ; but his pointed nose and 
his slightly rounded forehead betrayed a defect of race. 
Lastly, his hair, resembling, in color, hair that had been 
dyed black, indicated a social mongrel, who derived his 
intellect from a libertine nobleman, his baseness from a 
seduced village-girl, his knowledge from an incomplete 
education, and his vices from his abandoned condition. 

Birotteau learned with profound astonishment that 
his clerk went out very elegantly dressed, returned home 
very late, and attended balls at the houses of bankers 
and notaries. Such habits displeased Cesar ; according 
to his notions, clerks ought to study the books of their 
house, and think exclusively of their business. The 
perfumer was shocked at such follies, and roundly 
rebuked du Tillet for wearing too fine linen, and for 
having had his name thus engraved upon his visiting 
cards : F. du Tillet, a mode which, according to his 
commercial views, belonged exclusively to people in 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


55 


society. Ferdinand had sought out this Orgon with the 
intentions of a Tartuffe ; he paid court to Madame 
Cesar, attempted to seduce her from the path of honor, 
and measured the capacity of his employer as she did 
herself, but with fearful quickness. Although discreet, 
reserved, and saying nothing but what he meant, 
du Tillet unfolded his opinions upon men and life in away 
calculated to alarm a timorous woman, who participated 
in all the scruples of her husband, and regarded the 
least injury done to a neighbor as a crime. In spite of 
Madame Birotteau’s address, du Tillet perceived the 
contempt with which he inspired her. Constance, to 
whom Ferdinand had written several love letters, soon ob- 
served a change in the manners of her clerk, who assumed 
a complacent air, in order to promote a belief in. their 
intimacy. Without telling her husband her secret 
reasons, she advised him to send Ferdinand away. Birot- 
teau agreed with his wife on this point, and the dismis- 
sal of the clerk was resolved upon. Three days before 
parting with him, Birotteau one Saturday evening made 
up the monthly account, and found a deficit of three 
thousand francs. His consternation was great, less on 
account of the loss, than of the suspicions which must 
rest upon three clerks, a cook, a shop-boy, and numerous 
workmen whom he habitually employed. Whom should 
he accuse ? Madame Birotteau did not leave the till. 
The cashier was a nephew of Madame Ragon, named 
Popinot, a young man of nineteen, who lived with 
them, and was integrity itself. His figures, disagree- 
ing with the sum in the till, revealed the deficit, and 
indicated that the abstraction had been made after 
the account had been balanced. The tradesman and his 
wife resolved to keep silence and watch the house. The 
next day, Sunday, they received their friends. The 


56 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


families that constituted the coterie gave entertainments 
in turn. While playing at cards, Roguin, the notary, 
put down several gold pieces of ancient date that 
Madame Cesar had received some days before from a 
newly-married lady, Madame d’Espard. 

“ You have robbed a contribution box,” said the per- 
fumer, laughing. 

Roguin said he had obtained these coins at a banker’s 



house, having won them from du Tillet, who confirmed 
the notary’s response without a blush. The perfumer 
himself became purple. At the close of the evening, 
and just as Ferdinand was going to bed, Birotteau took 
him into the shop, under the pretext of speaking to him 
on business. 

“Du Tillet,” said the simple-minded man, “ there are 
three thousand francs wanting in my cash account, and 


OF CESAR BIROTTEATX. 


57 


I have no reason to suspect any one ; the circumstance of 
the gold coins seems too much against you not to speak 
of it ; so we will not go to bed till we have found the 
error, for, after all, it can be nothing but an error. You 
may indeed have taken a part of your salary on 
account.” 

Du Tillet acknowledged that he had taken the coins. 
The perfumer looked in the ledger, but he found no 
corresponding charge in his clerk’s account. 

“I was busy,” said du*Tillet. “ I meant to ask Pop- 
inot to debit me the amount.” 

“Very good,” said Birotteau, quite amazed at the 
cold indifference of the Norman, who thoroughly under- 
stood the honest people among whom he had come 
with the purpose of making his fortune. 

The perfumer and his clerk spent the night in verifi- 
cations that the worthy tradesman knew to be useless. 
While going and coming, Cesar slipped three bank-bills 
of a thousand francs each into the till, placing them 
against the side of the drawer, and then, feigning to be 
eovrcome with fatigue, pretended to go to sleep, and 
even to snore. Du Tillet awakened him with triumph, 
and went into ecstacies at having discovered the error. 
The next day, Cesar scolded his wife and little Popinot 
before the whole family, and made show of great 
anger on account of their negligence. Two weeks after- 
wards, Ferdinand du Tillet entered the service of a 
broker. He did not like perfumery, he said, and wanted 
to study banking. On leaving Birotteau, du Tillet 
spoke of Madame Cesar in a manner calculated to lead 
the public to believe that his employer had dismissed 
him out of jealousy. Some months afterwards, du Tillet 
came one evening to see his former master, and begged 
him to become his security for twenty thousand francs, 


58 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


and thus complete the bonds that were required of him, 
in an affair that would set him on the high road to 
fortune. 

Observing the surprise which Birotteau manifested at 
this effrontery, du Tillet knit his brows and asked him 
if he did not place confidence in him. Matifatand two 
tradesmen doing business with Birotteau noticed the 
indignation of the perfumer, who, however, restrained 
his anger in their presence. Du Tillet had perhaps 
become an honest man again, his dereliction might have 
been caused by a mistress in despair or by a first venture 
at the gambling table ; the public reprobation of an 
honorable man might cast into the path of crime and 
misery a fellow-being yet young and perhaps on the 
road to repentance. So the saintly creature took the 
pen and endorsed du Tibet’s notes, saying that it was 
with the greatest pleasure that he rendered this trifling 
service to a person who had been useful to him. But 
the blood rushed to his face as he acted this complaisant 
falsehood. Du Tillet could not endure the searching 
look that Birotteau cast upon him, and doubtless at this 
moment vowed that relentless hatred towards him 
which the angels of darkness cherish for the angels of 
light. While dancing, so to speak, upon the tight rope 
of financial speculations, du Tibet held the balancing 
pole so skilfully, that he was always elegant, and had 
the semblance of wealth long before he was wealthy in 
reality. When he once had a cabriolet he never aban- 
doned it, and sustained himself in the elevated sphere 
of those who mingle pleasure with business, making 
the saloon of the opera a branch of the Exchange — 
the Turcarets of the period. Through Madame Roguin, 
whose acquaintance he had made at Birotteau’s, he 
became intimate with the most influential bankers. At 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


59 


this period Ferdinand du Tillet had reached a pitch of 
prosperity in which there was neither deception nor 
insecurity. Upon the best terms with the house of 
Nucingen, where Roguin had introduced him, he had 
speedily become connected with the firm of Keller 
brothers, and had made interest with the first financial 
circles. No one knew where the young man obtained 
the immense capital which he manipulated, but his good 
fortune was attributed to his intelligence and his 
honesty. 

The Restoration made an important personage of 
Cesar, who naturally forgot these two domestic incidents 
in the whirl of political excitement. The constancy of 
his royalist opinions, to which he had become perfectly 
indifferent since his wound, but in which he had per- 
sisted for decorum’s sake, the recollection of his zeal in 
Vendemiaire, made interest for him in high quarters, 
precisely because he asked for none. He was elected 
major in the National Guard, though he was quite inca- 
pable of pronouncing a single word of command. In 
1815, Napoleon, still Birotteau’s enemy, removed him. 
During the Hundred Days, Birotteau was heartily 
detested by the liberals of his quarter ; for it was not 
till 1815 that political differences began to agitate the 
great body of merchants and traders, till then unanimous 
in their desire for tranquillity, which was felt to be so 
necessary for business. 

Upon the second Restoration, the royal government 
thought necessary to remodel the municipal body of 
Paris. The prefect was desirous that Birotteau should 
be appointed mayor. Thanks to his wife, the perfumer 
accepted the post of deputy, which rendered him less con- 
spicuous. This modesty largely increased the esteem 
which was generally felt for him, and procured him the 


60 THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 

friendship of the mayor, M. Flamet de la Billardiere. 
Birotteau, who had seen him at the Queen of Roses 
when the shop was used by the royalist conspirators as 
a rendezvous, himself suggested his name to the prefect, 
who had consulted him upon the choice to be made. 
Monsieur and Madame Birotteau were never overlooked 
in the invitations of the mayor. Lastly, Madame Cesar 
collected aims for the poor at St. Roch, in good and hon- 
orable company. La Billardiere warmly served Birot- 
teau’s interests in the matter of distributing to the munici- 
pal body the crosses awarded them, laying stress upon the 
wound he had received at St. Roch, upon his attachment 
to the Bourbons, and the consideration he enjoyed. The 
ministry, who desired both to bring the Legion of Honor 
— instituted by Napoleon — into contempt, by a prodigal 
and promiscuous distribution of crosses, and at the same 
time to create a body of followers, and to bring over to 
the Bourbons all the trades, arts and sciences, included 
Birotteau in the approaching promotion. This favor, 
perfectly in harmony with the credit which Birotteau 
enjoyed in his ward, placed him in a situation more 
likely than any other to elevate the ideas of a man who 
had thus far succeeded in everything he had undertaken. 
The news he had received from the mayor of his prefer- 
ment was the last argument which decided him to 
embark in the operations he had just explained to his 
wife, in order to abandon the shop as speedily as possible 
and ascend to the regions of the upper bourgeoisie of 
Paris. 

Cesar was now forty years old. The labors which he 
performed in his laboratory had given him a few' pre- 
mature wrinkles, and had lightly silvered his long 
bushy hair, around which the pressure of his hat made 
a glistening circular impression. His heavy eyebrows 


OF CESAR BIROTTEATJ. 


61 


might have alarmed the beholder, had not his blue eyes, 
with their clear and honest expression, been in perfect 
harmony with his open and manly forehead. His nose, 
broken at its base, and very large at the end, gave him 
the surprised air of the quidnuncs of Paris. His lips 
were full, and his fat chin hung perpendicularly down. 
His square and highly-colored face indicated, by the 
disposition of the wrinkles and the general style of his 
physiognomy, the ingenuous cunning of the peasant. 
The strength of his body, the heaviness of his limbs, the 
squareness of his back and the width of his feet — every- 
thing about him, in short — denoted the villager trans- 
ported to Paris. His large and hairy hands, his fat 
wrinkled fingers, his big square nails, would have borne 
witness to his origin, even if there had been no traces of 
it in his person. He had constantly upon his lips that 
benevolent smile which shop-keepers assume upon the 
entrance of a customer ; and yet this commercial smile 
was the faithful image of his internal content, and repre- 
sented the true state of his tranquil soul. His habitual 
distrust never went beyond his business ; his caution 
left him when he crossed the threshold of the Exchange 
or when he closed his ledger. Suspicion was to him 
what his printed bill-heads were, a necessary and com- 
ponent part of all bargain and sale. His face presented 
a sort of comic assurance, of fatuity mingled with good- 
fellowship, which rendered him an original type, as it 
took away from the resemblance, otherwise perfect, with 
the flat physiognomy of the Parisian bourgeois. With- 
out this air of guileless admiration and faith in him- 
self, he would have inspired too much respect ; he thus 
maintained his relationship with mankind, by contribut- 
ing his share of the ridiculous. 

When talking, he habitually held his hands behind 


62 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


his back. When he thought he had said something 
smart or gallant, he raised himself twice slightly upon 
his toes, and fell back again heavily, as if to emphasize 
his remark. In the heat of a discussion, he would some- 
times turn briskly round, walk a few steps as if he were* 
going to seek for further arguments, and return sharply 
upon his antagonist. He never interrupted a speaker, 
and often fell a victim to this exact observance of pro- 
priety, for the others cut in whenever they could, and 
the poor man would be obliged to depart without 
getting in a word edgewise. His great experience in 
commercial matters had given him certain peculiar ways 
which many persons called manias. When a note was 
not taken up, he sent it to the proper officer, and 
thought no more of it except to receive the principal, 
interest and expenses ; the officer had instructions to 
press the matter until the tradesman was bankrupt, and 
then to stop all proceedings. Cesar put the notes in 
his pocket and never went to any meetings of the credi- 
tors. This system, and his implacable detestation of 
bankrupts, he had derived from Ragon, who, in the 
course of his mercantile experience, had discovered that 
so much time was lost in litigation, that the meagre and 
uncertain dividend produced by arrangements and com- 
promises, was more than compensated by the time spent 
in going and coming, and running after the excuses the 
dishonest are ever so ready to make. 

“ If the bankrupt is an honest man,” said Ragon, “ and 
recovers himself, he will pay you. If he still continues 
penniless, and is simply unfortunate, why torment him ? 
And if he is a rascal, you’ll never get anything any way. 
Your well-known severity causes you to be regarded as 
intractable, and as no compromise with you is possible, 
as long as a man can pay any one, it’s you that he pays.” 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


63 


Cesar arrived at an appointment the moment agreed 
upon, and ten minutes afterward he left with an inflexi- 
bility that nothing could conquer ; so that his own 
punctuality rendered those who had business with him 
punctual themselves. 

The costume which he had adopted was in harmony 
with his manners and his physiognomy. No power on 
earth could have induced him to give up his white mus- 
lin cravats, the ends of which, embroidered by his wife 
or his daughter, hung down under his neck. His single- 
breasted white Marseilles waistcoat came very low down 
upon his somewhat prominent stomach ; for Cesar was 
slightly corpulent. He wore blue pantaloons, black 
silk stockings, and shoes the strings of which were con- 
stantly coming untied. His olive-green frock-coat, 
always too large for him, and his broad-brimmed hat, 
gave him the air of a Quaker. When he dressed himself 
for Sunday evening, he put on a pair of silk small-clothes, 
shoes with gilt buckles, and his inevitable single-breasted 
waistcoat, slightly open at the top to show his plaited 
shirt-frill. His chestnut-colored cloth coat was long in 
the waist and wide in the skirts. He continued, up to 
1819, to wear two watch-chains, hanging parallel to each 
other, but he only put on the second when he considered 
himself dressed. 

Such was Cesar Birotteau, a worthy creature upon 
whom the mysterious deities who attend upon the birth 
of men had refused to confer the power of taking gen- 
eral views either of politics or life, or that of raising him- 
self above the social level of the middling classes. He 
followed in everything the winding ways of routine ; 
every opinion which he held had been communicated to 
him by others, and he applied them without examination. 
Blind but good, not intellectual but profoundly religious, 


64 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


he was a man perfectly pure in heart. In this heart 
burned one first and only love, the light and strength of 
his life ; for his endeavors to rise, and the little informa- 
tion he had acquired, sprang from his affection for his 
wife and daughter. 

As for Madame Cesar, thirty-seven years old at this 
time, she resembled the Venus of Milo so closely, that 
all who knew her saw her very portrait in that admira- 
ble statue when the Duke de Riviere sent it to Paris. 
In a few months, however, sorrow and trouble so dif- 
fused their yellow tints over her dazzlingly white skin, 
so cruelly undermined and discolored the bluish circle 
within which played her fine sparkling eyes, that she had 
the appearance of an old madonna ; for she still pre- 
served, in the midst of her decay, a pleasing ingenuous- 
ness of manner, a pure though melancholy look, and it 
was impossible not to consider her still a handsome 
woman, and one singularly reserved and dignified in her 
demeanor. At the ball contemplated by Cesar, she was 
destined to enjoy one final and public triumph of beauty. 

Every life has its apogee — a period during which the 
causes which operate are in exact proportion with the 
results they produce. This high noon of existence, in 
which every moving force is in equilibrium and is mani- 
fested in its highest state, is common, not only to 
organized beings, but to cities, nations, ideas, institutions, 
trades, enterprises ; all of which, like noble families and 
dynasties, spring up, come to perfection, and fall. 
Whence comes the severe impartiality with which this 
theme of increase and decay is applied to all earthly 
organizations ? For death itself, in times of plague or 
epidemic, now advances, now slackens its course, now 
revives and now sleeps. Our globe itself is perhaps a 
mere rocket, a little more durable than the rest. History, 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


65 


in perpetually repeating the causes of the greatness 
and the decline of everything that has been seen on 
earth, ought, one would think, to warn mankind of the 
proper time to arrest the play of their faculties ; but nei- 
ther conquerors nor actors, neither women nor authors, 
ever listen to its salutary voice. 

Cesar Birotteau, who should have regarded himself 
as having arrived at the apogee of his fortunes, chose to 
consider this halting-time as a new point of departure. 
He did not know — and neither nations nor kings have 
sought to write them in ineffaceable characters — the 
causes of the downfalls with which history is rife, and 
of which both mercantile and sovereign houses have 
furnished such terrible examples. Why should not new 
pyramids be erected, to keep continually before the 
world this principle, applicable not only to the politics 
of nations but to the economy of private individuals, 
that Whenever the effect produced has ceased to be in direct 
connection and in equal proportioii with its cause, disorgan- 
ization has begun ? Such monuments, however, are every- 
where to be seen, in the traditions and the stones which 
speak to us of the past, which embody the caprices of 
ungovernable destiny, whose hand effaces our dreams 
and shows us that the greatest events are summed up 
in an idea. Troy and Napoleon are nought but poems. 
May this history be the poem of the obscure domestic 
vicissitudes in behalf of which no voice has been raised, 
all destitute, as they appear, of greatness ; while on the 
contrary, and for the same reason, they are immense. 
We are not now treating of individual woes, but of the 
sufferings of a people. 

Cesar, while going to sleep, feared that his wife might 
make some decisive objections in the morning, and 
determined to get up early in order to settle things his 


66 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


own way. So he arose quietly at dawn, left his wife in 
bed, dressed himself hastily and went down to the shop 
at the moment when the boy was taking down the shut- 
ters. Birotteau, seeing that he was alone, awaited the 
arrival of his clerks, and stood upon the threshold of 
his door, noting how Raguet, the shop boy, performed 
his duties, and of this Birotteau was a judge ! In spite 
of the cold, the weather was superb. 

“ Popinot, call M. Celestin down, and get your hat 
and shoes/’ When Anselme returned he said to him, 
“ We are going to have a talk together at the Tuileries.” 

Popinot, who presented a wonderful contrast to du 
Tillet, and who had been brought into relations with 
Cesar by one of those happy accidents which induce a 
belief in an overruling Providence, plays so important a 
part in this history that it is our duty to present a sketch 
of him. Madame Ragon was a Miss Popinot. She had 
two brothers. One, the youngest of the family, was at 
this time assistant judge of one of the civil courts of 
the Seine. The elder had embarked in the wool trade 
and had lost his fortune. He had since died, leaving to 
the care of the Ragons, and of his brother the judge, 
who had no children, his only son, Anselme, whose 
mother had died in giving him birth. Madame Ragon, 
to give her nephew the means of earning a livelihood, 
had placed him in the perfumery business, in the hope 
that he would succeed Birotteau. Anselme Popinot 
was short and had a club-foot, an infirmity which fate 
had bestowed upon Lord Byron, Walter Scott and 
Talleyrand, in order not to discourage such as might be 
afflicted with it. He had that brilliant complexion and 
that abundance of freckles which distinguish red-haired 
people ; but his clear forehead, his eyes, which resem- 
bled gray-veined agates, his handsome mouth, his fair 


OF CESAR BIROTTEATJ. 


67 


skin, his graceful modesty, the timidity caused by his 
deformity, interested all who saw him in his favor ; for 
the weak are generally -loved. Popinot made friends 
readily. “ Little ” Popinot, as every one called him, 
belonged to a highly religious family, whose members 
were both virtuous and intelligent, and who lived mod- 
est and praiseworthy lives. So that this boy, who had 
been brought up by his uncle, the judge, presented in 
himself an example of the union of the happiest quali- 
ties of youth ; good and affectionate, shy, perhaps, but 
zealous, gentle as a lamb, industrious, sober, devoted to 
his master’s interests, he seemed endowed with all the 
virtues of a Christian of the early days of the church. 

Upon hearing this mention of a walk in the Tuileries, 
the most eccentric proposition his imposing master 
could have made at this early hour, Popinot imagined 
that he intended to speak of setting him up in business. 
His thoughts reverted suddenly to Cesarine, the real 
Queen of Roses, the living sign of the shop, and with 
whom he had fallen in love the very day he had entered 
the house, two months before du Tillet. When half 
way up-stairs, he was obliged to stop, his heart seemed 
so swollen, and so violently did his arteries beat. He 
soon came down again, followed by Celestin, Birotteau’s 
chief clerk. Anselme and his master made their way 
towards the Tuileries without speaking a word. Popi- 
not was twenty-one years old — the age at which Birot- 
teau had married. Anselme saw therefore nothing to 
prevent his marriage with Cesarine, though the wealth 
of the perfumer and the beauty of his daughter were 
immense obstacles in the way of desires so ambitious ; 
but love proceeds by the gushes of hope, and the more 
unreasonable they are, the more confident love is. 
Thus the farther from him his lady-love really was, the 


68 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


more lively was Popinot’s desire. Happy he, who, at 
a time when distinctions were disappearing, and when 
one man’s hat was exactly like another’s, thus managed 
to create a distance between a perfumer’s daughter and 
himself, the descendant of an old Parisian family ! He 
was happy, spite of his doubt and anxiety. Did he not 
dine with Cesarine every day ? Besides, he contrived 



to divest his labor of its drudgery, by the zeal and ardor 
with which he espoused the interests of the house. He 
did everything in the name of Cesarine, and of course 
was never tired. In a young man of twenty years, love 
feeds upon its own devotion. 

“ He will be a merchant ; he will make his way,” said 
Cesar to Madame Ragon, praising his activity in the 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


69 


factory, extolling his aptitude for seizing upon the nice- 
ties of the art, and remembering the brisk way in which, 
when orders were plenty, with his sleeves rolled up and 
his arms naked, the poor cripple packed and nailed 
more cases than all the other clerks together. 

The well-known and acknowledged pretensions of 
Alexander Crottat, Roguin’s head clerk, the wealth of 
his father, a well-to-do farmer of la Brie, placed formid- 
able obstacles in the way of the orphan’s triumph ; but 
these difficulties were not, however, the worst to over- 
come ; for Popinot buried at the bottom of his heart a 
depressing secret which increased yet more the dis- 
tance between him and Cesarine. The little fortune of 
the Ragons, which in time would have been his, was 
compromised ; he had the pleasure of aiding them to 
live, by giving them his slender earnings. Still he 
believed he should succeed ! He had several times sur- 
prised Cesarine looking at him with what he thought 
was a glance of pride ; in the depths of her clear blue 
eyes, he had been venturesome enough to read a secret 
full of flattering promises. So that he now walked along 
by Cesar’s side, in trembling anxiety, agitated by hope, 
and excited as any young man under similar circum- 
stances would be, at the age when life has just begun to 
bud. 

“ Popinot,” said the good tradesman, “ how is your 
aunt ?” 

“ Very well, thank you, sir.” 

“ She has looked anxious and weary for some time, 
nevertheless; can there be anything wrong? Now, 
don’t be mysterious with me, Anselme ; I belong, as it 
were, to the family ; I have known your uncle Ragon 
for twenty-five years. I entered his shop in big hob- 
nailed shoes, just as I came from my village. Though 


70 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


the place is called les Tresorieres, my whole fortune was 
a louis d’or given me by my god-mother, the late mar- 
chioness d’Uxelles, a relative of the duke and duchess 
de Lenoncourt, both of them our customers. I pray 
for her and all her family every Sunday ; I send her 
neice, Madame de Mortsauf, in Touraine, all the per- 
fumery she uses. They are constantly sending me 
purchasers, M. de Vandenesse, for instance, who buys 
twelve hundred francs worth a year. If I were not 
grateful to the Ragons from proper feelings I ought to 
be from calculation. But I’ve no motive in wishing you 
well, Popinot, but for your own sake.” 

“ Ah, sir,” returned Anselme, “ if you will allow me to 
say so, you had such a powerful brain !” 

“ No, my boy, brain is not enough. I won’t say that 
my head was not as good as another man’s head, but I 
had more than that, sir ; I had integrity, unflinching 
integrity. I lived a regular life, sir, and I never loved any 
woman but my wife. Love is a famous vehicle, as 
M. de Villele said very happily yesterday in the 
tribune.” 

“Love!” exclaimed Popinot. “Oh, sir, can you 
have — ” 

“ Hallo, there’s old gentleman Roguin, on foot, cross- 
ing the Place Louis XV at eight in the morning. 
What’s he doing there ?” said Cesar, forgetting Anselme 
and his nut-oil together. 

Birotteau recalled to mind his wife’s suspicions, and 
instead of entering the garden of the Tuileries, advanced 
to meet the notary. Anselme followed his master at a 
distance, without comprehending the sudden interest 
he took in a matter apparently of so little importance, 
but very much encouraged by the sentiments he had 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAtT. 


71 


expressed relative to love, his louis d’or and hob-nailed 
shoes. 

Roguin, a tall, large man with a pimply face, with a 
high 'forehead and black hair, had in former years 
possessed a sufficiently agreeable countenance ; he had 
been bold and enterprising, for from an under clerk he 
had become a notary ; but, at the present time, his face, 
to the eyes of a skilful observer, told of the agitations 
and exhaustion of undue pleasures. When a man 
plunges into the degradation of excess, it is rare that his 
face does not show this degradation, somewhere ; so, in 
Roguin, the appearance of his wrinkles, the flush of his 
complexion, were not agreeable to behold. Instead of 
that pure light which glows beneath the tissues of men 
whose passions are under their control, and stamps them 
with the hues of health, his blood had that impurity which 
results from efforts against which the body rebels. His 
nose was vulgarly turned up, like the nose of people 
whose humors, flowing through those organs, produce 
the secret infirmity which a virtuous queen of France, 
in her simplicity, thought common to the human race, 
having never approached near enough to any man but 
the king to discover her error. Roguin imagined that 
by taking large quantities of Spanish snuff, he could 
conceal his infirmity ; but he only aggravated the evils 
which were the principal cause of his misfortunes. 

Is it not a social flattery that has been sufficiently 
prolonged — this continual painting of men under false 
colors, this fear of revealing the true elements of their 
calamities, so often caused by disease ? Physical evil, 
considered in relation to its moral ravages, examined in 
view of its influence upon the mechanism of life, has 
perhaps been hitherto too much neglected by writers 


72 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


upon manners. Madame Cesar had guessed the secret 
of Roguin’s household. 

As early as the first day of her union, the beautiful 
daughter of Chevrel, the banker, had conceived for the 
poor notary an insurmountable antipathy, and had 
desired an immediate divorce. But Roguin, too happy 
in having a wife worth five hundred thousand francs, 
without counting her expectations, had begged her not 
to seek for a separation, agreeing to leave her perfectly 
free and submitting to all the consequences of such a 
compact. Madame Roguin, now her own mistress, 
treated her husband as a courtesan treats an old lover. 
Roguin soon found his wife too expensive, and, like 
many Parisian husbands, had another home elsewhere. 
Kept within proper limits, the expense was at first 
moderate. 

Roguin’s first acquaintances in this direction were 
shop-girls, glad enough to enjoy his protection ; but for 
the last three years he had been consumed by one of 
those ungovernable passions to which men are subject 
between the ages of fifty and sixty, and whose object, 
in this case, was one of the most splendid creatures of 
the time, known in the annals of infamy as “ la belle 
Hollandaise.” She had been brought from Bruges to 
Paris by one of Roguin’s clients, who, on being 
compelled to leave from political motives, had made him 
a present of her in 1815. The notary had bought her a 
villa in the Champs Elysees, furnished it sumptuously, 
and gradually abandoned himself to satisfying her costly 
caprices, though her prodigality well nigh absorbed his 
fortune. 

The gloomy air stamped upon Roguin’s physiognomy, 
which vanished when he saw his client, was connected 
with certain mysterious events in which was involved 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


73 


the secret of du Tillet’s rapid fortune. The plan formed 
by du Tillet on entering Birotteau’s service, changed on 
the very first Sunday when the respective situations of 
M. and Madame Roguin fell under his notice at his mas- 
ter’s house. He had come less to pay court to Madame 
Cesar than' to induce her to give him her daughter 
Cesarine, in compensation for his quenching his passion 
for herself, and he had little difficulty in renouncing this 
marriage, as he had thought Cesar rich and had found 
him poor. He watched the notary, wormed himself 
into his confidence, induced him to introduce him to the 
belie Hoilandaise, sought to find out on what terms she 
and Roguin were, and discovered that she had threat- 
ened to discard her lover if he cut down her means of 
luxurious living. The Flemish beauty was one of those 
reckless women who never inquire where money comes 
from nor how it is acquired, and who would give a ball 
with the funds of a parricide. She never thought of 
the morrrow. The afternoon was her future, and the 
end of the month her eternity, even when she had bills 
to pay. Delighted thus to discover a lever with which 
to commence his labors, du Tillet began by inducing 
the belle Hoilandaise to reduce her drafts upon Roguin 
from fifty thousand francs to thirty thousand a year, a 
service which enamored old men rarely forget. 

At last, after a supper where wine had flowed freely, 
Roguin opened his heart to du Tillet upon his finan- 
cial difficulties. His real estate being encumbered 
by the lien of his wife, he had been led to take, from the 
deposits of his clients, sums amounting already to more 
than half the value of his office. When the amount 
remaining was squandered, the wretched Roguiq 
intended to blow his brains out, hoping to remove the 
shame of his bankruptcy by an appeal to the compassion 


74 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


of the public. Du Tillet saw a sure and rapid fortune 
flashing like the lightning in the orgies of this night ; 
he reassured Roguin, and returned his confidence by 
advising him to discharge his pistols in the air. “ A 
man of your calibre,” he said, “ ought not to act so stupid 
a part, and feel your way before you, but operate 
boldly.” He counseled him to take immediately a 
good round sum, to entrust it to him to be boldly 
ventured in some scheme, at the Exchange, or in some 
one of the thousand speculations then before the public. 
Should they win, they would establish, between them, a 
banking-house, and speculate with the sums entrusted 
to them. If luck were against them, Roguin could go 
and live abroad instead of killing himself, for his dear 
du Tillet would be faithful to him to the last sou. This 
plan was, as it were, a rope within reach for a drowning 
man to seize, and Roguin did not see that the per 
turner’s clerk was putting it round his neck. 

Once possessed of Roguin’s secret, du Tillet made use 
of it to establish his dominion over the wife, the mistress 
and the husband. Warned of a disaster she was far from 
suspecting, Madame Roguin accepted the services of 
du Tillet, who, sure of succeeding, now left the perfumer’s 
employment. He had no difficulty in inducing the fair 
dame from Bruges to risk a sum of money, that she 
might never be obliged to have recourse to a more 
infamous calling still, should a calamity befall her. 
Madame Roguin put her affairs in order, got together a 
small capital, and placed it in du Tibet’s hands, in whom 
she knew her husband had confidence, for the notary had 
at the outset given one hundred thousand francs to his 
accomplice. Connected with her in such a way as to 
transfprm the interest of that very attractive lady into 
affection, he succeeded in ingratiating himself into her 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


75 

favor. His three constituents naturally gave him a 
share in all operations ; but he, dissatisfied with this 
share, had the -boldness, while inducing them to gamble 
in stocks, to enter into an understanding with an adver- 
sary, who returned him the amount of their supposed 
losses, for he speculated for his clients as well as for 
himself. As soon as he had fifty thousand francs, he felt 
sure of making a splendid fortune ; he looked, with his 
eagle eye, into the various phases through which the 
country was then passing ; he speculated for a fall during 
the French campaign, and for a rise upon the return of 
the Bourbons. 

Two months after the restoration of Louis XVIII, 
Madame Roguin possessed two hundred thousand francs, 
and du Tillet three hundred thousand. The notary, in 
whose eyes this young man was an angel, had reestab- 
lished his business upon a solid basis. The belle Hol- 
landaise squandered all she received, being the prey of a 
dissolute spendthrift, named Maxime de Trailles, for- 
merly one of Napoleon’s pages. Du Tillet discovered 
this woman’s true name — Sarah Gobseck — on signing an 
agreement with her. Struck by the identity of this 
name with that of a usurer whom he had heard men- 
tioned, he called upon the old money lender, the good 
genius of young men of family, in order to learn what 
credit his relative might have with him, if any. The 
Brutus of usurers was implacably hostile to his grand- 
niece, but du Tillet succeeded in pacifying him by giv- 
ing himself out as Sarah’s banker and as having funds 
of hers to operate with. The Norman nature of the one 
and the usurious nature of the other harmonized com- 
pletely. Gobseck had need, at this moment, of an active 
and adroit young man to overlook a small speculation 
abroad. An auditor in Napoleon’s Council of State, 


76 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


taken by surprise by the return of the Bourbons, had 
conceived the idea, in order to regain their favor, of 
going to Germany and buying up all claims upon the 
French princes resulting from debts contracted by them 
during their expatriation. The profits of the affair, which 
to him were only political, he offered to any one who 
would advance the necessary funds. Gobseck was 
unwilling to do more than make advances upon the 
claims as they were gradually bought up, and wished to 
have them examined on the spot by an agent as sharp as 
himself. Usurers trust no one ; they must have security ; 
with them the occasion is everything ; they are frigid 
towards the man whom they do not need, smooth and 
benevolent when they have an object in it. 

Du Tillet perfectly understood the immense impor- 
tance of the part silently played in the market of Paris 
by the Werbrusts and Gigonnets, discounters to the 
trade of the Rues St. Denis and St. Martin, and by 
Palma, the banker of the Faubourg Poissonniere, all of 
whom were generally interested in the operations of 
Gobseck. He therefore deposited a guaranty in money, 
stipulating for an interest in the affair, and obtaining 
an engagement that all funds he deposited with them 
should be employed in their money speculations. He 
thus made sure of support in case of need. He 
accompanied Clement Chardin des Lupeaulx on his trip 
to Germany, which occupied the Hundred Days, and 
returned upon the second Restoration, having aug- 
mented the elements of his fortune rather than his for- 
tune itself. He had been admitted into the secrets of 
the most skilful operators of Paris, he had won the 
friendship of the man whom he had been commissioned 
to watch, for that adroit financier had laid bare to him 
the springs and principles of national politics. Du Til- 


77 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 

let was one of those who take a hint readily, and he 
finished his education during this journey. 

On his return, he found Madame Roguin faithful. 
The poor notary was waiting for him with as much 
anxiety as his wife, for the belle Hollandaise had ruined 
him again. Du Tillet questioned her, and found that 
her acknowledged expenses were far behind the sums 
she had squandered. He thus discovered the secret 
which Sarah Gobseck had so carefully concealed, her 
mad passion for Maxime de Trailles, whose earlier per- 
formances in his career of vice and debauchery told 
plainly what he was — one of those political, libertines 
necessary to every good government, and whom the 
gaming table rendered insatiable. On m'aking this dis- 
covery, du Tillet understood Gobseck’s indifference 
towards his grand-neice. These conjectures led banker 
du Tillet — -for he became a banker— earnestly to advise 
Roguin to lay up something for a rainy day, and to 
induce his more wealthy clients to venture upon some 
operation in which he could reserve heavy sums for 
himself, if he were compelled to fail on recommencing 
the banking game. After numerous ups and downs, 
profitable to Madame Roguin and du Tillet only, the 
notary could no longer postpone the hour of his final 
discomfiture. His agonies were then profitably worked 
by his best friend. Du Tillet invented the speculation 
relative to the land lying around the Madeleine. The 
hundred thousand francs deposited by Birotteau with 
Roguin, while waiting for an investment, were of course 
placed in the hands of du Tillet, who, wishing to ruin 
the perfumer, gave Roguin to understand that he ran 
less danger in spreading his nets for his intimate friends. 
“A friend/' he said, “ respects appearances, even in 
his anger." 


78 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


Few persons of our day are aware of the very small 
value borne, at this period, by the lands round the Made- 
leine, but this land would necessarily be sold at a price 
above its value at the moment, on account of the neces- 
sity they would be under of bringing together pur- 
chasers to profit by the opportunity. Now, du Tillet 
wished to have it in his power to reap the benefit with- 
out sustaining the losses of a speculation having so long 
a time to run. In other words, his plan consisted in 
killing the affair off, thus getting possession of a corpse 
which he knew he could galvanize into life again. On 
such occasions, Gobseck, Palma, Werbrust and Gigon- 
net mutually afforded each other assistance, but du 
Tibet was not sufficiently intimate with them to ask 
their aid ; besides, he was anxious to conceal his own 
agency in the affair, though he managed it throughout, 
so that he might finger the profits of the cheat without 
bearing the scandal. He saw the necessity, therefore, 
of possessing one of those living lay-figures called, in 
commercial language, “ men of straw.” His fictitious 
adversary in the Exchange seemed to him the fittest 
person of whom to make his “ ame damnee,” and he 
encroached upon the divine prerogative by creating a 
man. Of an ex-commereial traveler, without means or 
ability, except, perhaps, the knack of talking forever 
without saying a thing, without a sou in his pocket, but 
capable of playing a part without damaging the piece, 
overflowing with the rarest kind of honor, that is to say, 
willing to keep a secret and to allow himself to be dis- 
graced if it would be of service to his client — of such a 
man du Tibet made a banker, who seemed to plan and 
execute the loftiest enterprises, the head of the house 
of Claparon. 

The destiny of Charles Claparon was, sooner or later, 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


79 


to be delivered over to the Jews and Pharisees, if the 
speculations set on foot by du Tillet necessitated a fail- 
ure, and this Claparon knew. But the slight share in 
every operation which was secured to him, was a verit- 
able Eldorado to the poor devil who, when du Tillet fell 
in with him, was listlessly walking upon the Boulevard 
with a fortune of forty sous in his pocket. His friend- 
ship, his zeal for du Tillet, strengthened by an unreflect- 
ing gratitude, and stimulated by the needs of his libertine 
and irregular life, induced him to say amen to every- 
thing. Even after he had bartered away his honor, he 
saw du Tillet venture it so prudently, that he at last 
became attached to his former companion, like a dog 
to his master. Claparon was a very ugly cur, but he 
was always ready, like Curtius, to take any necessary 
leap. In the present combination, he was to represent 
one half of the purchasers of the land, as Cesar Birot- 
teau represented the other half. The negotiable paper 
which Claparon was to receive from Birotteau would be 
discounted by one of the usurers whose name du Tillet 
could borrow, in order to precipitate Birotteau into the 
depths of bankruptcy, when Roguin should appropriate 
his deposits. The syndics, representing the mass of 
Birotteau's creditors, would cfoubtless act in accord- 
ance with du Tillet’s suggestions, who, having in hand 
the sums furnished by Birotteau and his creditor under 
different names, would put the lands up at auction and 
would buy them in at half their value, paying with 
Roguin’s funds and with the proceeds of the failure. 
The notary engaged in this scheme, expecting to have a 
large share of the precious spoils of the perfumer and 
those interested with him ; but the man to whose honor 
he abandoned himself, meant to have and did have the 
Jion’s share. Roguin, unable to prosecute du Tillet in 


80 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


any court, contented himself with gnawing the bones 
thrown to him from month to month, in his hiding-place 
in Switzerland, where he found second-hand beauties at 
easy prices. 

Circumstances, not the meditations of a tragic author 
concocting a plot, had engendered this horrible plan. 
Hatred, without a desire for vengeance, is like seed 
sown upon granite ; but the vengeance sworn against 
Cesar by du Tillet was so natural as to be inevitable, 
or else we must deny the eternal warfare of the angels 
of darkness and the angels of light. Du Tibet could 
not, without great danger, assassinate the only man in 
Paris who knew him to be capable of a domestic theft, 
but he might humble him into the dust and so far 
annihilate him as to render his testimony worthless. 
For a long time his vengeance had slumbered in his 
breast, for even at Paris the best haters make very few 
plans. Life is too rapid, too desultory, there are too 
many unexpected contingencies : at the same time, these 
perpetual oscillations, though they may exclude the 
possibility of premeditation, very often foster and abet 
an idea which quietly lies in wait and can bide its time. 
When Roguin confided in du Tibet, the clerk saw a 
vague chance of destroying Cesar, and in this he was 
not mistaken. The notary, upon the point of abandon- 
ing his idol, drank what remained of the spell from a 
broken goblet ; he went every day to the Champs 
Elysees, returning home at an early hour the next 
morning. Thus the suspicious Madame Cesar was right 
in her conjectures. 

When a man has made up his mind to play such a 
part as du Tibet had given Roguin, he acquires the 
talents of the greatest actor ; he has the eye of a lynx 
and the penetration of a seer ; and he can even mag- 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


81 


netize his dupe. Thus, the notary saw Birotteau a long 
time before Birotteau saw him, and when the perfumer 
recognized him, he was already holding out his hand 
from a distance. 

“ I’ve just been to get the will of an important per- 
sonage who won’t live a week,” he said, very uncon- 
cernedly ; “ but they’ve treated me like a village doctor, 
they sent for me in a carriage and let me go home on 
foot.” 

These words dispelled a slight shade of doubt which 
had darkened the brow of the perfumer, and which 
Roguin observed ; so he prudently refrained from being 
the first to speak of the land speculation, as he wished 
this time to give the finishing stroke to his victim. 

“ After wills come marriage contracts ; such is life,” 
said Birotteau. “ And, talking of marriages, when shall 
we wed the Madeleine, Papa Roguin, eh ?” he added, 
tapping the notary upon the stomach. Among men, the 
ambition of the most chaste is to appear a little bit 
rakish. 

“ Well, either to-day or never,” returned the notary, 
with a diplomatic air. “ We are afraid that the affair 
will be noised about, and I am already harassed by two 
of my richest clients who want to invest in it. So we 
must either take it or leave it. At noon I shall draw 
up the papers, and you can have the privilege of joining 
us up to one o’clock, no later. Good-bye. I’m going 
to read the minutes which Xandrot was to block out 
during the night.” 

“ Consider it done, now, I give you my word,” 
exclaimed Birotteau, running after the notary and 
shaking hands upon it. “ Take the hundred thousand 
francs which were to constitute the portion of my 
daughter.” 


82 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


“Very well,” Roguin said, and departed. 

During the brief instant which passed while Birotteau 
was returning to where Popinot stood, he felt a violent 
heat within him in the region of the bowels. His heart 
contracted, his ears tingled. 

“ What is the matter, sir ?” asked Anselme, on seeing 
the pale face of his master. 

“ Ah, my boy, I have just concluded a brilliant affair 
in one single word, and on such occasions no one can 
master his emotions. You are not altogether uncon- 
cerned in it, either. I have brought you here to talk of 
it at our ease, where no one can overhear us. Your aunt 
is in trouble; how can she have lost money? Tell 
me !” 

“My uncle and aunt, sir, had placed their funds in 
the hands of M. de Nucingen, and have been compelled 
to take, in reimbursement, stock in the Wortschin 
mines, which have thus far paid no dividend, and at 
their age it is difficult to live on hope.” 

“ On what do they live, then ?” 

“ They are kind enough to accept my salary.” 

“Well done, well done, Anselme,” said the perfumer, 
with a tear twinkling in his eye, “ you are worthy of the 
attachment I feel for you. And I am going to bestow 
upon you an honorable reward for your devotion to my 
interests.” 

As he said these words, the tradesman was as much 
ennobled in his own eyes as in those of Popinot ; he gave 
them that conscious emphasis peculiar to his class — the 
expression of his imaginary superiority. 

“ Oh, sir, have you discovered my passion for — ” 

“ For whom ? ” asked the perfumer. 

“ For Mademoiselle Cesarine ?” 

“ Oh, young man, you are rather presumptuous !” 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


83 


cried Birotteau. “ Keep your secret to yourself, and for 
my part I will promise to forget it ; you shall leave my 
house to-morrow. I don’t blame you ; in your place, 
bless my soul, I should have done as much. She is so 
beautiful !” 

“Yes, indeed, sir,” said the clerk, who felt his shirt 
wet through with perspiration. 

“ My boy, this is no light matter ; Cesarine is her own 
mistress, and her mother has her views concerning her. 
So come to yourself again, wipe your eyes, put a bridle 
on your heart, and we’ll never speak of it again. I 
should not blush to have you for a son-in-law — a 
nephew of M. Popinot, judge in one of our civil courts ; 
nephew of the Ragons — you are as likely to make your 
way in the world as any one else ; but, dear me, the 
buts, the fors , and the ifs ! What an outlandish subject 
to start in a business conversation ! Here, sit down in 
this chair, and let the lover give place to the clerk. 
Popinot, are you a lad of courage ?” he asked, looking 
him in the face. “ Do you feel brave enough to fight 
with an enemy stronger than you, and to wrestle with 
him at close quarters ?” 

“ Yes, sir.” 

“ To sustain a long and desperate struggle ?” 

“ What about, sir ?” 

“About crushing Macassar oil !” said Birotteau, rais- 
ing himself erect like one of Plutarch’s heroes. “ Let 
us not deceive ourselves, the foe is powerful, formidable 
even, and well encamped. Macassar oil has been vigor- 
ously pushed. The conception was a shrewd one. The 
square bottles were original in form. In my pro- 
ject, my first idea was to make them three-cornered ; 
but after sober reflection, I think I should prefer 
small vials of thin glass enclosed in wicker-work ; 


84 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


this would give them an air of mystery, and purchasers 
always like things that excite their curiosity.” 

“ It would be expensive,” said Popinot. “We must 
get everything up at the lowest possible price so as to 
make a large discount to the trade.” 

“ True, my boy, those are the genuine principles. 
But remember one thing, Macassar will resist ! It is a 
plausible composition and has a seductive name. It is 
offered to the public as an importation from abroad ; 
we unfortunately are a native production. Come, Popi- 
not, do you feel strong enough to floor Macassar ? In 
the first place, you will have the best of it in consign- 
ments to foreign lands ; for it seems that Macassar 
really is in the Indies, and it will be more natural to 
send the Indians a French preparation, than to send 
them back what they are supposed to send us. Lay 
hands on all the traveling agents ! ’Twill be a struggle 
abroad and a struggle at home ! Macassar oil has been 
munificently advertised and pushed, and the public 
knows what it is ; we must not disguise its power.” 

“ I will smash it,” cried Popinot with sparkling eyes. 

“With what?” asked Birotteau. “That’s the way 
with the ardor of young men. Hear me through first.” 

Anselme struck the attitude of a soldier ordered to 
carry arms in the presence of a Marshal of France. 

“ Popinot, I have invented an oil to encourage the 
growth of the hair, to refresh the scalp, and to preserve 
the color of the capillary attractions of both males and 
females. This essence will be no less successful than 
my Water and my Paste ; but I do not mean to put this 
secret into execution myself ; I am thinking of retiring 
from business. It is you, my son, who must start the 
Comageneous Oil ; (from the Latin word Coma , signify- 
ing hair, as M. Alibert, the King’s physician, tells 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


85 


me. The word occurs in the tragedy of Berenice, where 
Racine has introduced a King of Comagene, in love 
with that beautiful queen so celebrated for her hair, and 
who, as a compliment to her, doubtless, gave this name 
to his kingdom ! Ah, these men of genius, what wits 
they do have ! They descend to the smallest details.)” 

Popinot kept his countenance while listening to this 
ridiculous parenthesis, evidently uttered for him who 
had the education to appreciate it. 

“ Anselme, I have fixed my choice upon you, to 
become the founder of a house dealing only in the 
loftier sort of drugs,” said Birotteau. “ I will be a 
silent partner, and will advance you the funds necessary 
to start with. After the Comageneous Oil, we will try the 
Essence of Vanilla, and the Spirit of Peppermint. In 
fact, we’ll attack the drug business in order to revolu- 
tionize it, by selling its products concentrated instead 
of selling the raw material. Ambitious young man, do 
you like the idea ?” 

Anselme was so overcome that he could not reply, 
but his eyes, which filled with tears,' replied for him. 
The offer seemed to him to be dictated by the feelings 
of an indulgent father who said : “ Deserve Cesarine by 
making yourself rich and respected.” 

“ Sir,” he finally answered, taking Birotteau’s emotion 
for astonishment, “ I too will succeed !” 

“Exactly as I was once,” cried Birotteau, “and 
exactly what I said. If you do not get my daughter, 
you’ll get a fortune at any rate. Why, why, what’s the 
matter now ?” 

“Allow me to hope that in obtaining the one I may 
secure the other.” 

“I cannot hinder you from hoping, my good fellow,” 
said Birotteau, touched by Anselme’s tone. 


86 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


“Well, sir, shall I begin to-day to look out for a shop, 
so that we may be the sooner ready to start ?” 

“ Yes, my boy. To-morrow we will go and shut our- 
selves up in the factory. Before going to the neighbor- 
hood of the Rue des Lombards, call on Livingston and 
ask whether my hydraulic press will be ready to operate 
to-morrow. This evening, about dinner-time, we will 
call on the illustrious and good Monsieur Vauquelin, in 
order to consult him. This learned man has recently 
given much time to an analysis of the hair, and has 
investigated the nature of its coloring matter, whence 
this matter comes, and what is the contexture of the 
hair. There lies the point, Popinot. You shall know 
my secret, and henceforth the only question will be how 
to turn it judiciously to account. Before calling on 
Livingston, drop in at Pieri Benard’s. My boy, the dis- 
interestedness of Monsieur Vauquelin is one of the great 
troubles of my life ; it is impossible to make him accept 
anything. Fortunately I found out through Chiffreville 
that he was anxious to have a Dresden Madonna, 
engraved by Muller, and after two years of correspon- 
dence with Germany, Benard has finally found a proof 
copy on India paper ; it costs fifteen hundred francs, my 
boy. To-day, our benefactor shall behold it in his ante- 
chamber, when he conducts us to the door after our 
interview with him. It must be framed by this time, and 
you will see about it. My wife and I will thus be remem- 
bered through our gift, for as to gratitude, we have 
remembered him in our prayers every day for many a 
year. I shall never forget him ; but, Popinot, buried in 
science, the learned forget everything, wife, friends, and 
those they have obliged. As for people like you and me, 
our lack of intellect gives us the right to have a little 
more warmth of heart. This is a consolation for not 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


87 


being a great man. Those gentlemen of the institute 
are all brain ; you will find that you never meet them in 
church. Monsieur Vauquelin is always in his study or 
in his laboratory ; I trust that he thinks of God while 
analyzing his works. No matter, it is understood that I 
furnish the capital, that I let you into my secret, and we 
will go shares ; there is no need of any formal agree- 
ment. May success reward us, for we will study to 
deserve it. Run, my boy, I must return to my business. 
Stop, Popinot, I am going to give a ball in about three 
weeks ; get a dress coat made, and come as a merchant 
already steady on your legs.” 

This last trait of goodness so moved Popinot that he 
seized Cesar’s big hand and kissed it. The good man 
had flattered the lover by this confidence, and people in 
love are capable of anything. 

“ Poor boy,” said Cesar, looking at him as he ran 
across the Tuileries, “suppose Cesarine should love him ! 
But he is lame, he has copper-colored hair, and girls are 
so singular, I scarcely think that Cesarine — and besides, 
her mother wants to see her a notary’s wife. Alexander 
Crottat will make her rich ; riches render everything 
supportable, whilst there is no happiness that is not 
blasted by penury. In short, I have resolved to make 
my daughter her own mistress as long as she keeps 
within the bounds of reason.” 

The neighbor of Birotteau was a small dealer in 
umbrellas, parasols and canes, named Cayron, a Lan- 
guedocian, whose affairs were in a bad way, and whom 
Birotteau had several times accommodated. Cayron was 
only too glad to confine himself to his shop, and give 
up to the rich perfumer his two rooms on the first floor, 
diminishing his rent in proportion. 

“Well, neighbor,” said Birotteau, entering the shop 


88 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


of the umbrella dealer, “ my wife consents to the 
enlargement of our quarters. If you please, we will go 
and see Monsieur Molineux at eleven o’clock.” 

“ My dear Monsieur Birotteau,” replied the umbrella 
dealer,” I have never asked you anything in considera- 
tion of my giving up the rooms, but you know a care- 
ful tradesman ought to turn everything to account.” 

“ Oh, the deuce,” responded the perfumer, “ I am not 
a millionaire. I don’t know whether my architect, 
whom I expect, will find the thing practicable. Before 
concluding the matter, he said, look and see whether 
the floors are on the same level. Then, Monsieur 
Molineux must give his consent to have the wall cut 
through, and is it a party wall ? In short, I shall have 
to reverse the stairs in order to change the landing 
place, so that the rooms may be connected. All this 
will be expensive, and I don’t wish to ruin myself.” 

“ Ha ! ha ! sir,” said the Languedocian, “ by the time 
you are ruined, the sun will have married the earth, 
and will have had sons and daughters.” 

Birotteau complacently stroked his chin, raising him- 
self up on his toes and falling back on his heels. 

“ However,” resumed Cayron, “ all I ask is that you 
cash these bills for me.” 

He handed Birotteau a little package of sixteen notes, 
amounting to five thousand francs. 

“ Ah !” said the perfumer, running them over, “ small 
fry, — two months, three months.” 

“ Take them at six per cent, ordy,” said the trades- 
man with an humble air. 

“ Do you take me for a usurer?” said the perfumer, 
with a look of reproach. 

“ I have been, sir, to your old clerk du Tillet ; he 


OF CESAR BIROTTEATT. 


89 


would not take them at any price, doubtless to see how 
much I would consent to lose.” 

“ I don’t know these signatures,” said the perfumer. 

“ We have such droll names in the cane and umbrella 
line — they are peddlers.” 

“ Well, I can’t promise to take all of them, but I will 
try and manage those of shortest date.” 

“ For a thousand francs that will come back in four 
months, do not leave me to run after the sharks that 
devour the greater part of our profits, — take them all, 
sir. I am so unaccustomed to borrowing, that I have 
no credit — that’s the death of us small dealers.” 

“ Very well, then, I’ll take the batch ; Celestin will 
reckon up the amount. At eleven o’clock, be ready. 
Here comes my architect, Monsieur Grindot,” added 
the perfumer, seeing a young man approaching, whom 
he had met the day before at Monsieur de la Billar- 
diere’s. “ Contrary to the custom of men of talent, you 
are punctual, sir,” said Cesar, displaying his most 
imposing commercial graces. “If punctuality, accord- 
ing to the expression of one of our kings — a man of wit 
as well as a great politician — is the politeness of sover- 
eigns, it is also the fortune of merchants. Time, time 
is money, especially for you artists. Architecture, I 
have heard, is the union of all the arts. We will not 
go in through the shop,” he added, pointing to the 
main entrance. 

Four years before, Monsieur Grindot had obtained 
“ the first prize ” in Architecture, and had returned 
home from Rome after a residence of three years there 
at the expense of the state. In Italy, the young artist 
thought of art, at Paris he thought of fortune. As the 
government alone can furnish the millions necessary for 
an architect to build up his fame, it is perfectly natural 


90 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


for every ambitious student who, on his return from 
Italy, believes himself a Fontaine or Percier, to lean 
strongly towards the ministerial party. So Grindot, the 
pensioner of the liberals, having become a royalist, 
sought support of influential persons. When a “ first 
prize” conducts himself thus, his comrades call him an 
intriguer. There were two courses for the young artist 
to pursue — to serve the perfumer, or to put him under 
contribution. But Birotteau the deputy, Birotteau the 
future half owner of the Madeleine lots, on which, sooner 
or later, would be built handsome blocks of houses, was 
a man whose favor it would be well to preserve. 
Grindot, therefore, sacrificed present gain to future 
prosperity. He patiently listened to the plans, the 
repetitions, the ideas, of one of those very bourgeois who 
are the constant subject of the artist’s ridicule, and 
the perpetual object of his contempt, and followed the 
perfumer about, nodding his head to signify assent to 
his notions. When the perfumer had explained every- 
thing, the young artist attempted to sum up his plans. 

“ You have three windows on the street, besides the 
window on the stair-way which lights the landing. 
You will add to these four windows, two that are on the 
same level in the adjoining house, reversing the stairs 
in order to make all the rooms, on the street, connect 
with each other.” 

“ You understand me exactly,” said the perfumer. 

“ In order to carry out your plan, it is necessary to 
light the new stair-way from above, and contrive a por- 
ter’s lodge under the socle.” 

“ A socle ?” 

“ Yes, the part on which we place — ” 

•“ I understand, sir.” 

“ As to your apartments, give me a carte blanche for 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


91 


their arrangement and decoration. I wish to make 
them worthy — ” 

“ Worthy ! that is precisely the word, sir.” 

“How much time can you give me to complete the 
work ?” 

“Twenty days.” 

“ How much are you willing to spend ?” said Grindot. 

“ How much will the alterations come to ?” 

“ An architect can estimate the cost of a new building 
to a fraction almost,” responded the young man ; “ but 
as I don’t know anything about putting a bourgeois 
through ... (I beg your pardon, the word escaped me 
. . . ) I must inform you that it is impossible to estim- 
ate the cost of these botchings and patchings. I 
should scarcely get at an approximate figure in a week. 
Trust the matter to me — you shall have a charming 
stair-way lighted from above, ornamented with a neat 
vestibule on the street, under the socle. — ” 

“ That socle again.” 

“Don’t be alarmed, I will find a place fora small 
porter’s lodge. Your rooms shall be the subject of 
study, and I shall take a lively interest in the repairs 
and decorations. Yes indeed, sir, I think of art and not 
of fortune ! In order to reach fortune must I not first 
acquire fame? In my opinion, the best way for me to 
realize happy effects at a moderate cost, is not to mix 
myself up with the contractors.” 

“ With such ideas, young man,” said Cesar with a 
patronizing air, “ you must succeed.” 

“ So,” resumed Grindot, “ treat directly with your 
masons, painters, locksmiths, carpenters, joiners, etc. I 
will verify their bills. Give me two thousand francs for 
my own services ; it will be money well spent. Put me 


92 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


in possession of the premises to-morrow at noon, and 
let me know your workmen.” 

“ Give me some very general idea of what the 
expense will be,” said Birotteau. 

“Ten or twelve thousand francs,” said Grindot. 
“ But I do not include the furniture, for you will doubt- 
less have new. Please give the address of your uphol- 
sterer, I must consult with him about matching the 
colors, that we may obtain the harmony required by 
good taste.” 

“ Monsieur Braschon, Rue Saint Antoine, has my 
orders,” said the perfumer, with the manner of a duke. 

The architect wrote the address on one of those little 
souvenirs that are generally the gift of a pretty 
woman. 

“Well, then,” said Birotteau,” I will leave it all to 
you, sir. Only wait till I have arranged for the lease 
of the two neighboring rooms and have obtained per- 
mission to cut through the wall.” 

“ Inform me by note this evening,” said the architect. 
“ I must spend the night in making my plans, and we 
would much rather work for the bourgeois than for the 
king of Prussia,* that is for ourselves. I will take, how- 
ever, the measure of the rooms — the height, dimensions 
of the jambs, the size of the windows, etc.” 

“ The work must be finished by the day mentioned,” 
resumed Birotteau, “or else no pay.” 

“ Then of course it must,” said the architect. “ The 
men shall work at night, and we will resort to methods 
for drying the paint ; but do not allow yourself to be 
outwitted by the contractors — ask their price always 

* A proverbial expression, meaning to throw one's labor away. 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


93 


beforehand, and put your agreements in black and 
white.” 

“Paris is the only place in the world where, by the 
touch of a wand, such miracles can be wrought,” said 
Birotteau, with an Asiatic gesture worthy of the Thous- 
and and One Nights. Pray do me the honor to come 
to my ball, sir. Men of talent do not always treat us 
with the disdain that is usually heaped upon tradesmen, 
and you will doubtless meet a savan of the first order, 
Monsieur Vauquelin of the Institute ! Also Monsieur 
de la Billardiere, the Count de Fontaine, Monsieur 
Lebas, judge and president of the tribunal of commerce ; 
several magistrates ; the Count de Grandville of the 
royal court, Monsieur Popinot of the cftdl court, Mon- 
sieur Camusot of the tribunal of commerce, and Mon- 
sieur Cardot, his father-in-law ; perhaps, indeed, the 
Duke de Lenoncourt, first gentleman of the king’s bed- 
chamber. I collect a few friends together as much 
to commemorate the evacuation of French territory — 
as to celebrate my — admission into the order of the 
Legion of Honor.” Here Grindot made a peculiar 
gesture. “ I perhaps made myself worthy of this — 
distinguished and royal favor, by sitting upon the con- 
sular bench and fighting for the Bourbons on the steps 
of St. Roch on the 13th Vendemiaire, when I was 
wounded by Napoleon. These claims — ” 

Constance, in morning dress, here came out of Cesa- 
rine’s bed-room, where she had dressed herself ; her 
first glance disconcerted her husband, who was trying 
to shape some model phrase whereby he might convey, 
with becoming modesty, some idea of his greatness to 
his neighbors. 

“ This, my love, is Monsieur de Grindot, a distin- 
guished young man from abroad, and the possessor of 


94 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


great talent. This gentleman is the architect recom- 
mended to us by Monsieur de la Billardiere, to take 
charge of our little alterations.” 

The perfumer here made a secret sign to the architect 
by putting his finger on his lips at the word little , and 
the artist understood. 

“ Constance, this gentleman wants to measure the 
rooms ; let him do it, my love,” said Birotteau, who 
slipped away into the street. 

“ Will this be very dear ?” said Constance to the 
architect. 

“ No, Madame, six thousand francs, or thereabouts.” 

“ Or thereabouts !” exclaimed Madame Birotteau. 
“ Sir, I beg y<?u not to begin without an estimate and 
written agreements. I know the ways of your contrac- 
tors ; six thousand means twenty thousand. We are not 
in a condition to commit such follies. I beg you, sir, 
though my husband is his own master, to give him a 
little time to reflect.” 

“ Madame, your husband the deputy has told me that 
the work must be done in twenty days, and if we delay, 
you will be liable to incur the expense without obtain- 
ing the result.” 

“ Some expenses are necessary and some are not,” 
said the fair wife of the perfumer. 

“ Eh ! Madame, do you think there will be much 
glory for an architect who aspires to build public monu- 
ments, in decorating a suite of rooms ? I condescend to 
undertake the job merely to please Monsieur de la 
Billardiere, and if I frighten you — ” 

He made a movement as if to retire. 

u Oh, very well, then, sir,” said Constance, entering 
her chamber, where she bowed her head upon the 
shoulder of Cesarine. “ Ah, my daughter ! your father 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


95 


is going to ruin ! He has taken an architect who wears 
moustaches and an imperial, and speaks of erecting 
monuments ! He is going to throw the house out of 
window in order to build us a Louvre. Cesar is never 
slow in committing a folly ; he spoke to me of his project 
last night, and begins to execute it this morning.” 

“ Pshaw ! mamma, let papa alone ; Heaven has 
always protected him,” said Cesarine, embracing her 
mother, and seating herself at the piano to show the 
architect that the daughter of a perfumer was no 
stranger to the fine arts. 

When the architect entered the chamber, he was 
surprised at the beauty of Cesarine, and remained for a 
time quite speechless. Cesarine had left her little sleep- 
ing-room in her morning-gown, and fresh and rosy as a 
girl of eighteen always is, blonde, slender and blue-eyed, 
she presented to the artist’s eye that elasticity so rare 
at Paris, which makes the most delicate flesh rebound, 
as it were, and shades with a tint beloved by painters 
the blue of the veins, a net work of which beats visibly 
in the transparencies of the skin. Although living in 
the lymphatic atmosphere of a Parisian shop, where the 
air is with difficulty renewed, where the sun rarely 
penetrates, her habits gave her all the benefit of the 
open-air life of a Transteverine at Rome. Her abundant 
hair, thick-set like her father’s and so arranged as to 
display her graceful neck, hung in flowing ringlets, 
carefully dressed like those of all shop-girls, who, in 
their desire to be remarked, give the most fastidious 
attention to matters of the toilet. The beauty of this 
young girl was neither the beauty of an English lady, 
nor that of a French duchess, but the full and florid 
comeliness of Rubens’ Flemish women. 

Cesarine had her father’s turned-up nose, rendered 


96 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


intellectual by its exquisite model, similar to that of 
noses essentially French, so successfull/ treated by 
Largilliere. Her clear and healthy complexion indicated 
the vitality of youth. She had the beautiful forehead of 
her mother, but illuminated by the serenity of a girl 
untrammeled by care. Her blue eyes, liquid and clear, 
expressed the tender grace of one fortunate and fair. 
Although her happy state of mind deprived her face of 
that poetic charm which painters insist upon giving to 
their compositions, by making them a little too pensive, 
the vague physical melancholy exhibited by young ladies 
who have never left the maternal wing, gave to her 
features a certain ideal cast. 

Notwithstanding her delicacy of form, she was strongly 
made ; her feet indicated the country origin of her 
father, for her defects were those of race ; as also did 
the redness of her hands — the sign of a purely bourgeois 
life. Sooner or later she would become 3tout. By 
observing the elegant young women who visited the 
shop, she had finally caught the true spirit of the toilet, 
certain airs of the head, a way of speaking and moving, 
that bespoke the woman of gentility, and turned the 
heads of all the young men, clerks, etc., to whom she 
appeared very imposing. Popinot had sworn never to 
marry any woman but Cesarine. This transparent 
blonde whom a look seemed to transfix, ready to burst 
into tears at a word of reproach, could alone give him 
the sentiment of masculine superiority. The charming 
girl inspired love without leaving the victim time to 
examine whether she had mind enough to render it dur- 
able ; but of what use is what the Parisians call mind 
( esprit ) in a class with whom the principal element of 
happiness is good sense and virtue ? In a social point of 
view Cesarine was her mother somewhat improved by the 


OF CESAR BLROTTEAU. 


97 


refinements of education — she loved music, made crayon 
sketches of the Madonna della Seggiola, read the works 
of Mesdames Cottin and Riccoboni, Bernardin de Saint 
Pierre, Fenelon and Racine. She never appeared at her 
mother’s side at the counter, except for a few moments 
before going to meals, or to take her place on rare occa- 
sions. Her father and mother, like all parvenus eager to 
cultivate the ingratitude of their children by raising 
them # above themselves, took delight in deifying Cesa- 
rine, who, fortunately, had the virtues of the bourgeoisie, 
and did not abuse their weakness. 

Madame Birotteau followed the architect with an 
anxious and solicitous air, regarding with terror and 
pointing out to her daughter the strange movements of 
the yardstick, the cane of architects and contractors, 
with which Grindot took his measures. She saw in 
these wavings of the wand a cabalistic air of bad omen; 
she could have wished the walls lower and the rooms 
smaller, but dared not question the young man on the 
effects of this sorcery. 

“ Don’t be alarmed, Madame, I will not take anything 
away,” said the artist, smiling. 

Cesarine could not help laughing. 

“ Sir,” said Constance, with a supplicating voice, and 
not even observing the artist’s sally, “ study economy, 
and, hereafter, we shall be able to reward you.” 

Before going to visit Monsieur Molineux, the proprie- 
tor of the adjoining house, Cesar called at Roguin’s to 
get the agreement that was to have been drawn up by 
Alexandre Crottat for this transfer of lease. As he 
went away, Birotteau saw du Tibet at the window of 
Roguin’s office. Although the connection of his former 
clerk with the notary’s wife accounted naturally enough 
for the appearance of du Tibet at the hour when the 


98 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


papers relative to the lands were in course of prepara- 
tion, Birotteau felt uneasy notwithstanding his extreme 
confidence. The animated look of du Tillet indicated 
a discussion. “ Can he have a hand in the affair ?” he 
asked himself, the question being suggested by his 
commercial prudence. The suspicion passed through 
his soul like a flash of lightning. He turned round, 
saw Madame Roguin, and the presence of the banker no 
longer seemed to him so suspicious. “ Still, suppose 
Constance were right !” he said to himself. “But I am 
a dunce to listen to a woman’s notions ! Besides, I will 
talk with my uncle about it this morning. From the 
Cour Batave, where this Molineux lives, to the Rue des 
Bourdonnais, is but a step.” 

A sharp observer, a merchant who had met with 
sundry rogues in his career, would have been saved ; 
but the antecedents of Birotteau, and his want of capac- 
ity to follow a chain of inductions, whereby a superior 
mind mounts to a cause — all these things conspired to 
ruin him. He found the umbrella dealer dressed in his 
best attire, and was about to set out with him to visit 
Molineux, when Virginie, his cook, seized him by the 
arm. 

“ Sir, madame don’t want you to go any farther — ” 

“Pooh! pooh!” exclaimed Birotteau, “ more women’s 
notions !” 

“Without taking your coffee that’s waiting for you.” 

“ Ah ! that’s true. My good man,” said Birotteau to 
Cayron, “ I have so many things in my head that I don’t 
attend to my stomach. Please go on, and I will meet 
you at Molineux’s door, unless you just go up and open 
the affair to him. In this way we shall lose less time.” 

Monsieur Molineux was a grotesque little landed pro- 
prietor, the like of whom exists nowhere but at Paris, 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


99 


as a certain lichen grows nowhere but in Iceland. This 
comparison is the more correct, from the fact that the 
man belonged to a mixed order, to an animo-vegetable 
kingdom, that a modern Mercier might class among the 
cryptogamia, which germinate, grow and decay, under, 
in, or upon the limy walls of diverse strange and 
unwholesome houses preferred by these curious produc- 
tions. At first sight, this human plant, umbelliferous, in 
the blue tubular cap that crowned it, its stem enveloped 
in green pantaloons, with its bulbous roots wrapped in 
heavy flannel stockings, presented a blanched and insipid 
physiognomy that certainly did not indicate the pres- 
ence of venom. In this strange product might have been 
recognized the type of the stockholder who believes in 
all the news that the periodic press baptizes with its ink, 
and who says all he has to say in the words: “Read 
the newspaper !” the bourgeois essentially in favor of 
order, and always in moral revolt against the govern 
ment to which he is, nevertheless, invariably submissive ; 
a creature feeble in mass and ferocious in detail ; insensi- 
ble as a tipstaff when his rights are invaded, and yet, 
lavish of fresh chickweed to his birds or scraps of fish 
to his cat ; interrupting the payment of a quarter’s rent 
to give a canary a lesson in singing ; suspicious as a 
jailor, yet investing in a hopeless speculation, and then 
striving to make up for the loss by the most sordid 
avarice. 

The malevolence of this hybrid flower was in fact re- 
vealed only by use ; to be fully appreciated, its nauseat- 
ing bitterness required the coction of some transaction 
wherein its interests were mingled with the interests of 
men. Like all Parisians, Molineux felt the need of 
domination; he /desired that part of sovereignty, more 
or less important, exercised by every one, even by a 


100 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


porter, over more or less victims — wife, child, tenant, 
clerk, horse, dog or monkey — the recipients, in their 
turn, of the mortification their masters have received 
from the next higher sphere to which they have aspired. 
This wearisome little old man had neither wife nor 
child, nor nephew, nor neice ; he abused his house- 
keeper too much to make her a scape-goat, for she 
shunned all contact with him while scrupulously per- 
forming her duty. His appetite for tyranny, therefore, 
was not gratified ; for the purpose of satisfying it, he 
had patiently studied the laws on the subject of leases 
and of party-walls ; he had fathomed the jurisprudence 
of Paris, regulating the pettiest matters of dividing lines 
and contiguous premises, obligations, taxes, costs, 
sweepings, awnings on the Fete Dieu, pipes, gutters, jut- 
tings on the public highway, and the propinquity of nui- 
sances. His means, his energy, and his whole mind were 
devoted to maintaining his prerogatives on a warlike 
footing ; he had made it his amusement, and his amuse- 
ment had become a monomania. He loved to protect 
citizens against the invasions of illegality ; but subjects 
of complaint were rare, and his passion had finally 
centered upon his tenants. A tenant, to him, was an 
enemy, his inferior, his subject, his vassal ; he consid- 
ered that he had a right to his respect, and regarded 
any one as uncivil who passed him on the stairs without 
speaking. He wrote all his receipts himself, and sent 
them at noon on the day the rent was due. Whoever 
was not prompt received a summons at a fixed hour. 
Then levy, costs, and the whole judicial cavalry were at 
once started into action with the rapidity of the instru- 
ment that the executioner calls the machine. Molineux 
granted no delay, his heart was callous in the matter of 
rent. “ I will lend you money if you want it,” he would 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


101 


say to a solvent tenant, “ but pay me my rent, any delay 
involves a loss of interest for which the law does not 
indemnify us.” 

After a long experienced the capricious and eccentric 
fancies of tenants, who one after another overturned the 
institutions of their predecessors, precisely as if they 
had been dynasties, he had drawn up a set of rules, which 
he scrupulously observed. Thus, he never made repairs ; 
none of his chimneys ever smoked, his stairs were always 
clean, his ceilings white, his cornices irreproachable, the 
floors firm on the joists ; the painting was satisfactory ; 
the locks were never more than three years old ; there 
were no broken panes of glass ; there were no such things 
as cracks ; he saw no broken floor-tiles except when ten- 
ants were going, and then he was on hand with a lock- 
smith and a glazier, who were very accommodating peo- 
ple, he said. The tenant, however, was free to make any 
improvements ; but if he imprudently put his apartment 
in good repair, Molineux meditated night and day upon 
the means of dislodging him in order to re-let the newly 
decorated apartment at a higher price ; he watched him, 
lay in wait for him, and began his series of annoyances 
and encroachments. He knew all the quirks of Parisian 
legislation in the matter of leases. A litigant and a scrib- 
bler, he addressed bland and courteous letters to his ten- 
ants ; but at the bottom of his style, as beneath his vapid 
and officious mien, there lurked the soul of Shylock. He 
always demanded six months rent in advance, to be al- 
lowed on the last term of the lease, and exacted the whole 
formidable train of conditions which he himself had in- 
vented. He always examined whether furniture enough 
was put in to secure the rent. He subjected the new ten- 
ant to the police of his investigations, for he would not 
admit certain callings ; the smallest hammer frightened 


102 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


him. When it finally became necessary to give a lease, he 
kept the document, and spelled it over for a week, fear- 
ing what he called the notary’s et cetera. Outside of his 
ideas as a landlord, Jean-Baptiste Molineux seemed to be 
upright and friendly ; he played at boston without com- 
plaining of an unskilful partner ; he laughed at what the 
bourgeois habitually laugh at, talked of what they habit- 
ually talk of — the arbitrary acts of bakers who had the 
villainy to give false weight, of the connivance of the 
police and of the heroic seventeen members of the left. 
He read the “ Good Sense ” of the cure Meslier, and went 
to mass, finding it impossible to choose between deism 
and Christianity ; but he furnished no consecrated bread, 
and then went to law to escape the encroachments of 
the clergy. The indefatigable petitioner wrote letters on 
this subject to the papers, which the papers never 
inserted and never answered. In short, he was not 
unlike the estimable bourgeois who puts his Christmas- 
log on the fire, celebrates the Epiphany, invents April- 
fools, walks the whole length of the Boulevards when 
the weather is fine, goes to see the skaters, and betakes 
himself at two o’clock to the terrace of the place Louis 
XV on fire-work days, with a store of bread in his pocket, 
in order to get a front place. 

The Cour Batave, where this little old man dwelt, is 
the product of one of those strange speculations which 
seem to admit of no explanation, when they are once 
executed. It was a cloister-like edifice, with internal 
arcades and galleries, built of hewn stone, adorned with 
a fountain in the back-ground, a dry fountain that opens 
its huge lion’s mouth less to give than to demand water 
from all passers-by, and was doubtless projected to endow 
the Saint Denis neighborhood with a kind of Palais- 
Royal. This unwholesome building, walled in on every 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


103 


side by lofty houses, has neither life nor movement 
except in the day-time ; it is the centre of the obscure 
passages that issue there and connect the quarter of the 
markets with that of Saint-Martin by the famous Rue 
Quincampoix — damp alleys that cannot be traversed 
quick enough to escape the rheumatism ; but in the 
night no place in Paris is more desolate } here, you 
would say, are the catacombs of trade. 

Naturally the apartments of this mercantile palace 
have no outlook except upon the common court ; hence 
they are rented at a very low price. Monsieur Moli- 
neux dwelt in one of the angles on the sixth floor, on 
account of its salubrity ; the air was not pure till you 
got seventy feet above the ground. There, this good 
proprietor enjoyed the enchanting prospect of the mills 
of Montmartre, as he walked up and down the roof, in 
the gutters of which he cultivated flowers, notwith- 
standing the police regulations in regard to the hanging 
gardens of the modern Babylon. He occupied four 
rooms. As soon as you entered, a repulsive nudity 
revealed his avarice : in the ante-chamber were six 
straw-bottomed chairs, an earthen-ware stove, and on 
the walls, which were covered with bottle-green paper, 
four engravings purchased at auction ; in the dining- 
room were two side-boards, two cages full of birds, a 
table covered with an oil-cloth, a barometer, a glass- 
door opening on his hanging gardens, a few mahogany 
chairs covered with hair-cloth ; the parlor was orna- 
mented with small, old green silk curtains, and with 
green plush furniture, the wood work of which was 
painted white. As to this old bachelor’s chamber, its 
furniture dated from the time of Louis XV, and was 
disfigured by long use ; a woman dressed in white 
would have been in danger of soiling her clothes upon 


104 


THE GBEATNESS AND DECLINE 


it. His mantel-piece was ornamented by a clock with 
two columns, between which stood a dial that served 
as a pedestal to a Pallas brandishing her lance — a myth. 
The floor was encumbered with plates of scraps 
intended for the cats, on which a visitor was in constant 
danger of stepping. Over a rosewood bureau hung a 
pastel portrait — Molineux in his youth. There were, 
besides, some books, several tables, with the suggestive 
green paper boxes sacred to usury ; a console with 
several canary-birds, deceased and stuffed ; last of all a 
wretched bed cold enough to give a new lesson to a 
Carmelite. 

Cesar Birotteau was enchanted with the exquisite 
politeness of Molineux, whom he found in a gray-cloth 
morning gown, watching his milk simmer in a small 
sheet-iron chafing dish in a corner of the fire-place, and 
his watered coffee-grounds boil in a little brown earthen- 
ware pot, from which he dribbled small doses into his 
coffee-urn. To save his landlord trouble, the umbrella 
dealer had been to open the door to Birotteau. Moli- 
neux held the mayors and deputies of the city of Paris, 
whom he called “ our municipal officers,” in veneration. 
At the sight of the magistrate, he arose, remained 
standing, cap in hand, till the great Birotteau should be 
seated. 

“No, sir; yes, sir; ah ! sir, if I had known that I 
was to have the honor of receiving a member of the~ 
municipal body of Paris among my humble penates, 
believe me, I should have considered it my duty to call 
on you, although your landlord or — about — to — 
become so.” Birotteau motioned to him to put on 
his cap. “ I shall do no such thing, I shall remain 
uncovered till you are seated and till you are covered if 
you have a cold ; my room is somewhat chilly, the slen- 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


105 


derness of my means does not allow me — Bless you, 
Mr. Deputy. 

Birotteau had sneezed while searching for his papers. 
He presented them, taking care to say, in order to pre- 
vent any delay, that Roguin, the notary, had drawn 
them up at his expense. 

“ I do not dispute the ability of Monsieur Roguin, a 
name well known in the Parisian notariat ; but I have 
my little ways. I manage my own affairs, a passion 
quite excusable, and my notary is — ” 

“ But our business is so simple,” said the perfumer, 
accustomed to the prompt decisions of tradespeople. 

“ So simple !” exclaimed Molineux. “ Nothing is 
simple in this leasing business. Ah ! you are not a 
landlord, and you are all the more fortunate for that. 
If you knew how ungrateful tenants are, and how many 
precautions we are obliged to take ! I will mention the 
case of a tenant of mine — ” 

Molineux went on for a quarter of an hour, relating 
how one Gendrin, a designer, had escaped the vigilance 
of his porter, in the Rue Saint Honore. Monsieur Gen- 
drin had committed infamies worthy of a Marat, he had 
made certain obscene sketches which were tolerated by 
the police — the connivance of the police being a thing 
understood ! This Gendrin, a thoroughly immoral 
artist, would bring home with him women of bad char- 
acter and render the stair-way impracticable ! — a kind 
of fun to be expected from a man who caricatured the 
government. 

And why these criminal proceedings ? Because he 
was asked for his rent on the fifteenth, the day it was 
due ! Gendrin and Molineux were going to law, for 
the artist, whilst he payed nothing, presumed to remain 
in his lodgings. Molineux was in the receipt of anony- 


106 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


mous letters, doubtless from Gendrin, wherein he was 
threatened with assassination some night, in one of the 
blind alleys that lead to the Cour Batave. 

“To such a pass, sir,” he continued, “have things 
come, that the prefect of police, to whom I confided 
my troubles (I profited by the circumstance to suggest 
the introduction of some modifications in the laws that 
regulate such matters), authorized me to carry pistols 
for the defense of my person.” 

The old man got up and went after his pistols. 

“ Here they are, sir !” he exclaimed. 

“ But, sir, you have nothing of the kind to fear from 
me,” said Birotteau, glancing at Cayron with a smile 
wherein was depicted a feeling of pity for such a man. 

Molineux noticed this glance, and was wounded at 
detecting such an expression in a municipal officer, 
whose duty it was to protect his constituents. He 
would have pardoned it in any other, but he did not 
pardon it in Birotteau. 

“Sir,” he said, drily, “ one of our most esteemed con- 
sular judges, a deputy, an honorable tradesman, should 
not descend to such littlenesses, for they are littlenesses ! 
But to the matter in hand ; you have to obtain the 
consent of your landlord, the count de Grandville, to 
cut through the wall ; stipulations must be made for the 
restoration of the wall at the end of the lease ; in short, 
rents are now low, they will rise before long, the Place 
Vendome will extend, in fact, it is extending ! The Rue 
Castiglione will soon be built up ! . . I bind myself 

. . I bind myself — ” 

“ Enough of this,” said Birotteau, stupefied, “ what 
are you at ? I understand business well enough to know 
that your arguments will be silenced by that superior 
argument — money! How much do you want ?” 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


107 


“ Nothing but what is right, Mr. Deputy. How long 
has your lease to run ?” 

“ Seven years,” Birotteau answered. 

“ What will my first floor not be worth in seven 
years?” resumed Molineux. “What will my two fur- 
nished rooms not bring, in that quarter of the city ? 
More than two hundred francs a month, perhaps ! I 
bind myself, I bind myself, by a lease. We will fix the 
rent, then, at fifteen hundred francs. At that price, I 
consent to transfer these two rooms from the lease of 
Monsieur Cayron, here,” he said, looking sideways at 
the tradesman ; “ and will give you the lease of them 
for seven years. You may cut through the wall at 
your expense, provided you will bring me count de 
Grandville’s permission, and his relinquishment of all 
rights. You shall take the responsibility of any casual- 
ties that may happen from this opening ; you shall not 
be bound to restore the wall, so far as I am concerned, 
and you shall give an indemnity of five hundred francs 
down •; life is uncertain, and I don’t want to have to run 
after anybody to build the wall up again.” 

“ These conditions seem to me pretty nearly fair,” 
said Birotteau. 

“ Then,” said Molineux, “ you will pay me in cash, 
seven hundred and fifty francs, hie et nunc , to be deducted 
as the last half year’s rent ; the lease shall contain a 
receipt for it. Oh ! I will accept small notes bearing 
the words “ value received in rent,” so as not to lose my 
security, at any date you like. I am very off-hand in 
business. We must stipulate that you will wall up the 
door leading to my stairs, by which you will have no 
right to enter — at your own expense. Don’t be alarmed, 
I shall ask no indemnity for the re-opening of the door 
at the close of the lease ; I consider it as comprised in 


108 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


the five hundred francs. Sir, you will always find me 
just.” 

“We tradesmen are not so punctilious,” said the per- 
fumer, “ business would not be possible with such 
formalities.” 

“ Oh ! in trade, it is very different, especially in per- 
fumery, in which everything goes as smooth as a glove,” 
said the little old man with a vinegar smile. “ But, sir, 
in this matter of rents at Paris, nothing is unimportant. 
Only think, I had a tenant in the Rue Montorgueil — ” 

“ Sir,” said Birotteau, “ I should be grieved to keep 
your breakfast waiting ; here are the papers, amend 
them, everything you ask is agreed to ; we will sign 
them to-morrow ; let us give our word to-day, for 
to-morrow my architect is to begin work.” 

“ Sir,” resumed Molineux, looking at the umbrella 
dealer, “ there is an expired term which Monsieur Cay- 
ron does not feel inclined to pay ; we will add it to the 
other little matters, that the lease may run from January 
to January. That will be more regular.” 

“ Very well,” said Birotteau. 

“ Then you will pay the usual gratuity to my porter — ” 

“ But as you deprive me of the stair-case, and as I have 
nothing to do with your porter, that is hardly fair.” 

“Oh, you are a tenant,” said Molineux, peremptorily, 
astride upon the principle of the thing, “you owe your 
share of the door and window tax and of the customary 
charges. When things are clearly understood, there can 
never be any difficulty. You are making large additions 
here, sir ; business is prosperous, I presume ?” 

“Quite,” said Birotteau ; “but that is not my reason. 
I collect together a few friends as much to commemorate 
the evacuation of French territory as to celebrate my 
admission into the order of the Legion of Honor — ” 


OF CESAR BIROTTEATT. 


109 


“Ah !” said Molineux, “ a well merited honor.” 

“ Yes,” said Birotteau ; “I perhaps rendered myself 
worthy of this distinguished and royal favor by sitting 
upon the consular bench, and fighting for the Bourbons 
on the steps of St. Roch the 13th Vendemiaire, where I 
was wounded by Napoleon. These claims — ” 

“ Are quite as good as those of our brave soldiers of 
the old army. The ribbon is red because it has been 
dipped in blood.” 

At these words, borrowed from the Constitutionnel , 
Birotteau could not help inviting Molineux, who was 
profuse in his thanks and felt himself ready to pardon 
him for his disdain. The old man conducted his new 
tenant all the way to the top of the stairs, overwhelm- 
ing him with politeness. When Birotteau was in the 
middle of the Cour Batave with Cayron, he looked deris- 
ively at his neighbor and said : 

“ I did not believe that there were people in the world 
so infirm !" This last word he substituted for stupid, 
which he checked upon his lips. 

“Ah! sir,” said Cayron, “everybody has not your 
ability.” As Birotteau might well regard himself as a 
great man in comparison with Molineux, the response 
of the umbrella dealer made him smile agreeably, and 
he bade him good-day in a right royal manner. 

“ I am here at the market,” said Birotteau to himself, 
“ and may as well look after the affair of the nuts.” 

After an hour’s search, Birotteau, sent by the market- 
women to the Rue des Lombards, where nuts were used 
in the manufacture of sugar-almonds, learned from his 
friends the Matifats that dried fruit was kept at whole- 
sale only by a certain Angelique Madou, who lived in 
the Rue Perrin-Gasselin, the only house where the 


110 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


aveline of Provence and the real white hazel-nut of the 
Alps could be obtained. 

The Rue Perrin-Gasselin is one of the alleys of that 
right-angled labyrinth enclosed by the quay, the Rue St. 
Denis, the Rue de la Ferronnerie and the Rue de la Mon- 
naie, and forming, as it were, the bowels of the city. 
Here swarm an infinite number of heterogeneous wares, 
all mixed up together, some of them smelling bad and 
others sporting coquettishly — herring and muslin, silk 
and honey, butter and lace ; here especially were col- 
lected together those petty trades of whose existence 
Paris is as ignorant as most men are of the composition 
of their sweetbreads and sausages — trades whose blood- 
sucker and usurer was, at this period, a certain Bidault, 
familiarly called Gigonnet, dwelling in the Rue Grene- 
tat. Here what was formerly a stable is occupied by 
casks of oil, and ancient coach-houses contain myriads 
of cotton stockings. Here is the wholesale department 
of wares sold at retail in the markets. 

Madame Madou, formerly a fish woman, brought ten 
years before into the dried fruit line by a connection 
with the original proprietor of her stock, had for a long 
time supplied the gossips of the market with a subject 
of scandal ; she was a virile and enticing dame, though 
her beauty had at this time disappeared in excessive 
plumpness. She inhabited the ground-floor of a dingy 
tumble-down house, that was held together at each story 
bv cruciform iron rivets. The defunct partner of 
Madame Madou had succeeded in getting rid of his 
competitors and converting his trade into a monopoly ; 
in spite of some slight defects of education, his heiress 
could therefore continue the business by routine, going 
and coming in the midst of her stores scattered through 
coach-houses, mews and work-shops, where she success- 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


Ill 


fully combated insects and vermin. Without office, 
desk or books, for she could neither read nor write, she 
responded to a letter with a blow of her fist, regarding 
it as an insult. In other respects she was a well-mean- 
ing woman ; her color was high ; she wore a bandanna 
handkerchief over her cap ; and she won the esteem of 
the carmen who brought her wares by her brazen voice, 
usually terminating her quarrels with them by a friendly 
bottle of cheap wine. It was impossible that she could 
have any difficulty with the producers who sent her 
their fruit, for their correspondence was in ready money 
— the only correspondence she and they understood. 
Furthermore, the matronly Madou paid them a visit 
during the summer. Birotteau discovered this untamed 
saleswoman in the midst of her bags of dried fruits and 
chestnuts. 

“ Good-morning, my dear woman,” said Birotteau, in 
an off-hand manner. 

“ Hallo! Your Dear!" she answered. “ So you and I 
have been on agreeable terms together, have we ? We’ve 
played hide and seek together, haven’t we ?” 

“ I am a perfumer, madame, and what’s more, deputy 
mayor of the second ward of Paris ; so that, as magis- 
trate and customer, I’ve a right to expect of you a dif- 
ferent style of conversation.” 

“■Well,” returned the virago, “/ don’t ask anything 
of the mayor, and / don’t fatigue the deputies ; when- 
ever I want to get married, I do it myself. As to my 
customers, they all of ’em adore me, and I give ’em any 
•style of conversation I please. If they don’t like it they 
can lump it, and go and get swindled elsewhere.” 

“ Behold the effects of monopoly !” said Birotteau to 
himself. 

** Qppoly, my god-son ! has he been in any mischief — 


112 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


have you come for him, my worthy official ?” she said, 
lowering her voice. 

“ No, I had the honor to say just now that I came in 
the character of a purchaser.” 

“ Well, my lad, what’s your name ? I hain’t never 
seed you afore.” 

“ With such manners as yours, I should think you 
could afford to sell your nuts cheap,” returned Birotteau, 
giving his name and qualities. 

“ Ah, so you are the famous Birotteau with a hand- 
some wife! How many of ’em do you want ? Sweet 
as sugar, sir, them nuts is.” 

“ Six thousand pounds, good weight.” 

“ That’ll take all I’ve got,” said the woman, .in a voice 
like that of a flute with a sore throat. “ Well, I will 
say, you must have enough to do, if you marry girls 
and perfume ’em, too ! You ain’t no lazy bones, you 
ain’t ! You’ll be a powerful customer, and I’ll write 
your name on the heart of the woman I love most.” 

“ Who’s that ?” 

“ Why, my dear Madame Madou.” 

“ How do you sell your nuts ?” 

“ Well, seeing it’s you, twenty-five francs the hun- 
dred pounds, if you take the whole.” 

‘‘Twenty-five francs!” exclaimed Birotteau, “fifteen 
hundred francs in all ! I shall want perhaps a hundred 
thousand a year.” 

“ But just look at the quality of the article. Them 
as picked ’em up was barefooted, so as not to hurt 
’em,” said mother Madou, plunging her arm into a 
bag of avelines. “ And they ain’t hollow, neither. 
Just remember that grocers sell mixed dried fruits at 
twenty-four cents a pound, and in every four pounds 
they put a pound of them ’ere. Do you want me to 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


113 


lose on the article to please you ? You are a very nice 
man, I dessay, but you ain’t nice enough for that. 
However, if you want so many, we’ll call it twenty 
francs ; I don’t like to send away a deputy, it might 
bring bad luck to them as you marry ! Feel the article 
again, heavy, ain’t it ? It won’t take fifty of them to 
make a pound ! Plump, too, not a wurrem in 'em !” 

“AVell, then, send me six thousand to-morrow for 
twelve hundred irancs, at ninety days ; send them to 
my factory, Rue du Faubourg du Temple, early in the 
morning.” 

“ I’ll be as spry as a bride. Good-bye, Mr. Mayor, 
and don’t bear malice. But if it’s the same thing to 
you,” she added, following Birotteau to the court-yard, 
“ I’d prefer paper at forty days, for I’ve been too cheap 
already, and I can’t lose the discount, too. Old daddy 
Gigonnet has got no more heart than a bed-post ; he’d 
as soon suck out your soul as a spider would sip a fly’s 
brains.” 

“ Very well, then, fifty days. But we must weigh 
them by a hundred pounds at a time, so as to have no 
hollow ones. Without that, no bargain.” 

“ Ah, the villain, he’s up to snuff,” thought Madame 
Madou. “Can’t teach him anything. It’s those rascals 
in the Rue des Lombards that told him that ; overgrown 
wolves leagued together to devour us lambs !” 

The lamb in question was five feet high and three feet 
round, and looked like a stone post dressed in a striped 
frock without any waist. 

The perfumer, lost in his calculations, meditated, as 
he walked along the Rue St. Honore, upon his duel 
with Macassar Oil ; he thought over his labels, and the 
forms of his bottles ; he even considered the texture of 
the cork he should use, and the color of his placards. 


114 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


And yet people say that there is no poetry in trade ! 
Newton entered into no more calculations for his famous 
binomial theorem than Birotteau did for his Comage- 
neous Essence, for the oil had now become an essence, 
Birotteau going from one term to the other, without 
knowing the precise signification of either. All sorts of 
plans were huddled together in his head, and he took 
this activity about nothing for the substantial action of 
talent. In his preoccupation, he went beyond the Rue 
des Bourdonnais, and, upon remembering that he was 
to visit his uncle, was obliged to retrace his steps. 

Claude-Joseph Pillerault, formerly a retail dealer in 
hardware at the sign of the Golden Bell, presented one 
of those noble physiognomies in which everything is in 
harmony — dress and manner, mind and heart, language 
and thought, speech and action. The only surviving 
relative of Madame Birotteau, Pillerault had centered 
all his affections in her and Cesarine, after having lost, 
in the course of his mercantile career, his wife and his 
son, besides an adopted child, the son of his cook. 
These sad losses had thrown the old gentleman into a 
sort of Christian stoicism, whose beautiful doctrines 
animated his life and illumined his declining years with a 
light at once warm and cold like that which gilds the 
sunsets of winter. His thin and withered head, the cast 
of which was severe, in which yellow and brown were 
harmoniously blended, presented a striking analogy with 
that given by painters to Time, though certainly more 
common ; for the habits of a life spent in trade had 
tended gradually to diminish, in him, those monumental 
and repellant characteristics so exaggerated by painters, 
sculptors and clock founders. 

Of medium height, Pillerault was rather thick-set than 
fat ; nature had intended him for labor and long life, his 





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OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


117 


broad shoulders denoted a strong frame ; his tempera- 
ment was phlegmatic, and he showed but little visible 
emotion, though he was by no means wanting in sensi- 
bility. Pillerault, not expansive by nature, as might 
have been inferred from his quiet attitude and his 
imperturbable expression, possessed an internal insensi- 
bility without external manifestation. His eye, the ball 
of w T hich was green dotted with black points, was 
remarkable for its unchangeable lustre. His forehead, 
wrinkled in straight lines and yellowed by age, was low 
and hard, covered by silver gray hair, cut close and 
resembling felt. His shrewd mouth denoted prudence, 
not avarice. The vivacity of his eye indicated the 
austerity of his life. In a word, his integrity, his senti- 
ment of duty, his genuine modesty, surrounded him, as 
it were, by a halo, by giving his face the relief of strong 
health. For sixty years he had led the hard and sober 
life of an untiring laborer. His history was like that of 
Cesar, without the fortunate circumstances. A clerk up 
to the age of thirty, 4iis means were locked up in his 
business at the time when Cesar purchased government 
securities with his savings ; finally, he had suffered from 
the effects of the maximum decree, and his picks and 
his irons had been taken for the use of the government. 
His prudence, his reserve, his foresight and his mathe- 
matical reflection, had not been without influence upon 
his manner of doing business. He had made the 
greater part of his commercial transactions upon parole, 
and he had seldom had any difficulty. He was a close 
observer, like meditative people generally, and allowed 
men to talk that he might study them ; he would then 
frequently decline advantageous propositions afterwards 
accepted by his neighbors, who as often repented their 
bargain, saying that Pillerault knew a rascal by the 


118 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


scent. He preferred small but sure profits to bold 
strokes in which heavy sums were hazarded. He sold 
iron plates for fire-places, gridirons, heavy andirons, 
picks, hoes, and the other tools of a peasant’s outfit. 
This unremunerative part of his business required a 
great deal of mechanical labor. The gains bore no pro- 
portion to the toil, there was so little profit upon mate- 
rials so difficult to move and so awkward to store. The 
boxes he had nailed, the packages he had forwarded, 
the wagon-loads he had received w T ere innumerable. No 
fortune was ever more nobly earned, more legitimate, 
or honorable, than his. He never asked more than he 
was willing to take, nor did he ever run after business. 

In his later days, he might be seen smoking his pipe 
before his door, gazing at the passers-by and watching 
his clerks work. In 1814, when he retired, his fortune 
consisted of seventy thousand francs invested in govern- 
ment funds, which yielded him a little over five thousand 
francs income ; and of forty thousand francs payable in 
five years, without interest, the •price of his stock and 
good will, sold to one of his clerks. For thirty years 
he had done business to the amount of one hundred 
thousand francs a year, and seven per cent, had been his 
net profit ; it cost him one half of this to live. Such 
was the state of his affairs. His neighbors, seeing little 
to envy in this modest career, extolled his wisdom with- 
out understanding it. At the corner of the Rue de la 
Monnaie and the Rue St. Honore stood the cafe David, 
where a few old tradesmen like Pillerault went in the 
evening to take their coffee. There, his adoption of the 
son of his cook had frequently been the subject of joke — 
of that species of joke which may be addressed to a man 
respected by all — for the hardware dealer inspired a 
respectful esteem, without, however, having sought it, 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


119 


for his own esteem quite satisfied him. So, when the 
poor young man died, there were more than two hun- 
dred people at the funeral, who followed the corpse to 
the cemetery. At this period, Pillerault was heroic. 
His grief, controlled like that of all those who are strong 
without display, augmented the sympathy felt by the 
4 neighbors for “ that good man*' a phrase uttered, in 
Pillerault’s case, with an accent which extended and 
gave nobility to its signification. The sobriety of Claude 
Pillerault, now a confirmed habit, would not allow him 
to give himself up to the pleasures of an idle life, when, 
upon leaving business, he entered into that state of 
repose which has such a crushing effect upon the Par- 
isian bourgeois. He continued to live in his old way, 
and enlivened his old age by taking a deep interest in 
politics, his opinions being those of the extreme left. 
Pillerault belonged to that class of the working popula- 
tion which the Revolution ingrafted upon the bour- 
geoisie. The only spot upon his character was the 
importance he attached to this conquest — he clung with 
tenacity to his rights, to his liberty, the fruits of the 
Revolution. He believed his independence and his 
political consistency jeopardized by the Jesuits whose 
power was admitted by the liberals, and threatened by 
the views attributed by the Constitutionnel to the eldest 
of the King’s brothers. But he was perfectly consistent 
with his position, with his ideas ; there was nothing 
narrow in his policy ; he never abused his opponents ; 
he held courtiers in dread ; he believed in republican 
virtue ; he fancied Manuel free from excess, General 
Foy a great man, Casimir Perier without ambition, 
Lafayette a political prophet, Courier a well-meaning 
man. He cherished many chimeras, but they were noble 
ones. 


120 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


This model old gentleman lived a domestic life, going 
frequently to visit the Ragons and his niece, Judge 
Popinot, Joseph Lebas and the Matifats. Fifteen hun- 
dred francs amply sufficed for his personal needs. He 
spent the remainder of his income in good works, in 
presents to his grand-niece Cesarine ; he gave his friends 
a dinner, four times a year, at Rolands, in the Rue du 
Hazard, and took them to the theatre. He played the 
part of those old bachelors, upon whom married women 
draw drafts at sigh for their little caprices — an excur- 
sion to the country or a visit to the opera. Pillerault 
was happy in the pleasure which he gave, his enjoyment 
was in the hearts of others. When he abandoned busi- 
ness, he would not quit the quarter to which his habits 
had attached him, and he hired in the Rue des Bourdon- 
nais a small suite of three rooms, upon the fourth story 
of an antiquated mansion. 

As the domestic habits of Molineux were reflected in 
his singular furniture, so the pure and simple life of Pil- 
lerault was revealed by the internal arrangement of his 
rooms, comprising an ante-chamber, a parlor and a bed- 
room. Except in point of size, his abode was the cell of 
a monk. The ante-chamber, with its waxed red brick 
floor, had but one window, which was hung with muslin 
curtains with red borders, mahogany chairs with red 
sheep-skin seats ornamented with brass-headed nails ; the 
walls were covered with olive-green paper, and against 
them hung engravings of the Declaration of American 
Independence, Bonaparte as First Consul, and the Battle 
of Austerlitz. The parlor, furnished doubtless by an 
upholsterer, contained a set of yellow furniture, a carpet^ 
a plain bronze clock and candelabras, a painted fire- 
guard, a console bearing a vase for flowers covered by 
a glass globe, a round table with a cloth on which stood 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


121 


a liquor case. The somewhat modern aspect of this 
room clearly denoted a sacrifice made to the usages of 
society by the old ironmonger, who had few occasions to 
see company. In his bed-chamber, simple as that of a 
monk or of a soldier — the two men who best appreciate 
life — a crucific with a receptacle for holy water at 
once struck the observer. This profession of faith in a 
republican and a stoic was profoundly touching. An 
old woman came daily to. attend to his room, but his 
respect for the sex was such that he would not allow her 
to clean his shoes, but had them done by a boot-black, 
by subscription. His dress was simple and invariable. 
He wore, habitually, a blue cloth frock coat and panta- 
loons, a cheap w,aistcoat of lively colors, a white cravat 
and high shoes. On holidays he put on a dress coat 
with metal buttons. His habits in rising, breakfasting, 
going out, dining, spending the evening and returning 
home, were marked by the most punctilious method, for 
regularity, he thought, brings health and long life. He 
never discussed political questions with Cesar, the Ra- 
gons, and the abbe Loraux, for the members of this 
circle knew each other too well to venture upon attempts 
at conversion. Like his nephew and like the Ragons, 
he had great confidence in Roguin. He regarded a 
Paris notary as a venerable being — the living type of 
integrity. In the matter of the land speculation, Pille- 
rault had made an investigation which afforded Cesar 
good grounds for so boldly combating the presentiments 
of his wife. 

The perfumer ascended the seventy-eight steps which 
led to the dingy little door of his uncle’s apartments, 
thinking, as he went, that his uncle must be pretty hale 
yet, if he could mount to such a height without com- 
plaining. He found the blue coat and pantaloons 


122 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


stretched upon the rack on the landing ; Madame Vail- 
lant was brushing and rubbing them while the genuine 
philosopher, their owner, wrapped up in a gown of warm 
woolen cloth, was taking his breakfast before the fire and 
reading the parliamentary debates in the Constitutionnel 
and the Journal du Commerce. 

“ Uncle,” said Cesar, “ the affair is concluded, we are 
going to draw up the papers. Still, if you have any 
scruples or regrets, there is yet time to withdraw.” 

“ Why should I withdraw ? The plan is a good one, 
though long to realize, as all sure speculations are. My 
fifty thousand francs are at the bank, I received yester- 
day the last five thousand on my stock in trade. As to. 
the Ragons, they put their whole fortune in.” 

“ But how do they live ?” 

u Well, no matter, they do live.” 

“ I understand, uncle,” said Birotteau, much affected, 
and grasping the austere old gentleman’s hands. 

“ How is the affair to be managed ?” sharply inter- 
rupted Pillerault. 

“ I am in for three-eighths, you and the Ragons for one- 
eighth ; I will credit you upon my books, till the question 
in regard to the deeds signed before the notary be 
decided.” 

“ Very good. But you must be very rich, Cesar, to 
risk three hundred thousand francs? It seems to me 
that you are venturing a good deal outside of your busi- 
ness ; won’t it suffer ? Well, it’s your affair. If you get 
into trouble, why, the government funds are up to eighty, 
and I could sell two thousand francs worth of consols. 
But take care, boy ; if you come to me for aid, remember 
it is your daughter’s inheritance that you are encroaching 
upon. 



hiI 




rspFySs. 




UNCLE,” SATD CESAR, ‘ THE AFFAIR IS CONCLUDED. 






OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


125 


“ My good uncle, what a quiet way you have of say- 
ing the most admirable things ! It stirs my heart.” 

“General Foy stirred my heart just now, and in a dif- 
ferent style. Come, go and conclude the bargain. 
The land won’t fly away, and half of it will be ours ; 
though we wait six years, there will be more or less rev- 
enue from the coal and wood yards upon it which pay 
rent, so that we can lose nothing. There is only one 
danger, and that is improbable : Roguin w T on’t make off 
with the money.” 

“My wife said he would, though, last night ; she is 
afraid of him.” 

“ Roguin make off with our money ?” said Pillerault, 
laughing, “ what for ?” Smiling incredulously, he 
detached a blank from his check-book, filled it up, and 
signed it. “ Here,” he said, “ is a check upon the bank 
for one hundred thousand francs, for the Ragons and for 
me. The poor creatures have nevertheless sold that 
miserable du Tillet their fifteen shares in the mines of 
Wortschin, to make up the sum. To think of worthy 
people like them in penury ; it makes one’s heart bleed ! 
So honorable, so upright, the very cream of the old bour- 
geoisie ! Their brother, Judge Popinot, knows nothing 
about it ; they conceal it, that they may not prevent him 
from continuing his deeds of beneficence. People, too, 
who toiled like me, for thirty years !” 

“ God grant that the Comageneous Oil may succeed,” 
cried Birotteau ; “ I shall be doubly happy. Good-bye, 
uncle '; come and dine with me on Sunday ; the Ragons, 
Roguin and Claparon will be there ; w r e all sign the 
papers Saturday, day after to-morrow. To-morrow is 
Friday, and I do no business — ” 

“ Superstitious to that extent ?” 

“ Uncle, I will never believe that the day on which 


126 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


the Son of God was put to death by men, is a fortunate 
day. If business is suspended on the 21st of January, 
the anniversary of the execution of Louis XVI — ” 

“ Very well, Sunday,” interrupted Pillerault. 

“ If it were not for his political opinions,” said Birot- 
teau, descending the staircase, “ I don’t know whether 
my uncle would have his equal on earth. What good 
do politics do him ? He’d be so much better off if he 
thought nothing about it. His pertinacity proves that 
no man is perfect.” 

“ Already three o'clock !” said Cesar as he regained 
his home. 

“ Do you take these notes, sir?” asked Celestin, show- 
ing him the umbrella dealer’s paper. 

“ Yes, at six per cent., without commission. Wife, 
get my clothes ready, my love. I am going to Monsieur 
Vauquelin’s, you know why. Above all, a white 
cravat.” 

Birotteau gave a few orders to his clerks, saw that 
Popinot was missing, and guessed that his future part- 
ner was dressing, ran hastily up-stairs to his room, 
where he found the Dresden Madonna magnificently 
framed, as he had directed. 

“Nice, isn’t it ?” said he to his daughter. 

“ Now, father, you musn’t say it’s nice, say it’s hand- 
some ; people will make fun of you.” 

“ Dear me, just look at this young lady scolding her 
father ! Well, for my taste, I like Hero and Leander 
quite as well. The Virgin is a religious subject which 
is very well in a chapel ; but Hero and Leander ! oh, 

I must buy it, for Hero's vial of oil gave me an idea!” 

“ I don’t understand, father.” 

“ Virginie, a carriage,” cried Cesar in a formidable 
voice, when he had shaved and when the bashful Popi- 


. OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


127 


not had appeared, dragging his foot along, on account 
of Cesarine. 

The young lover had not yet discovered that his mis- 
tress no longer noticed his infirmity. Delicious proof 
of love which persons afflicted by fate with a physical 
deformity can alone receive ! 

“ Sir,” said he, “ the press will be at work to-morrow.” 

“ Why, what’s the matter, Popinot,” asked Cesar, 
seeing Anselme blush. 

“ Sir, it’s joy at having found a shop, with a back- 
shop, a kitchen, with chambers in the loft, and store- 
rooms, for twelve hundred francs a year, in the Rue des 
Cinq Diamants.” 

“We must take a lease for eighteen years,” said 
Birotteau. “ But come to Monsieur Vauquelin’s, we’ll 
talk on the way.” 

Cesar and Popinot got into the carriage, before the 
eyes of the clerks, amazed at their tremendous costumes 
and at their unusual vehicle, ignorant, as they were, of 
the great things contemplated by the master of the 
Queen of Roses. 

“ We are now going to learn the facts in relation to 
nuts,” said the perfumer. 

“To nuts?” returned Popinot. 

“ You have my secret, Popinot,” replied Birotteau ; 
“ I let slip the word nut ; there lies the whole matter. 
Nut oil is the only oil which has any effect upon the 
hair, and yet no perfumery house has thought of it. 
When I saw the engraving of Hero and Leander, I said 
to myself, ‘ If the ancients used so much oil upon their 
hair, they must have had a reason, for the ancients 
are the ancients !” Spite of the pretensions of the 
moderns, I am of the opinion of Boileau upon the 
ancients. I started from that point and brought up at 


128 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


nut oil, thanks to your little relation Bianchon, the med- 
ical student, who told me that the small boys at school 
used oil obtained from nuts to hasten the growth of their 
moustaches and whiskers. We need nothing more but 
the sanction of the illustrious Monsieur Vauquelin. 
Enlightened by him, we shall not deceive the public. I 
was at the market just now, at a nut stall, to get the raw 
material, and in an instant I shall be at the house of one 
of the most learned men of France, to learn how to 
extract the quintessence. Proverbs are not so stupid 
after all, for extremes do really meet. Commerce, my 
boy, is the intermediary between vegetable productions 
and science. Angelique Madou collects, Monsieur Vau- 
quelin extracts, and you and I sell an essence. The 
nut cost five sous a pound, Monsieur Vauquelin increases 
their value a hundred fold, and we, perhaps, shall 
render the human race a service, for if vanity is the 
source of torment to the mind of man, a good cosmetic 
is certainly a blessing.” 

The religious admiration with which Popinot listened 
to the father of Cesarine stimulated the eloquence of 
Birotteau, who allowed himself to use the wildest lan- 
guage that a bourgeois could possibly invent. 

“ Be respectful, Anselme,” he said, on entering the 
street where Vauquelin lived ; “ we are now to penetrate 
into the sanctuary of science. Put the Madonna in a 
conspicuous place, though not affectedly so, upon a 
chair in the dining-room. I only hope I shan’t get 
mixed up in what I am going to say,” cried Birotteau, 
in the simplicity of his heart. “ Popinot, this man 
makes a chemical impression upon me, his voice warms 
my bowels, and even gives me a slight colic. He is my 
benefactor, and in a few moments, Anselme, will be 
yours, too.” 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


129 


These words had a chilling effect upon Popinot, who 
put down his feet as if he were treading upon eggs, and 
looked at the walls uneasily. Vauquelin was in his 
study, and Birotteau was announced. The academician 
knew that the perfumer was deputy-mayor and high in 
favor, and at once received him. 

“ So you do not forget me in your greatness,” said 
the savant, “ but between a chemist and a perfumer, 
there is only a step.” 

“ Alas, sir, between your genius and the simplicity of 
a poor creature like me, there’s a whole infinity. I 
owe what you call my greatness to you, and I'll not 
forget it either in this world or in the other.” 

“ Oh, in the other we shall all be equal, they say, 
kings and cobblers.” 

“ That is to say,” returned Birotteau, “ such kings 
and such cobblers as shall have lived a holy life.” 

“ Is this your son ?” asked Vauquelin, looking at 
Popinot, who was in a state of vacant astonishment at 
seeing nothing extraordinary in the study, where he had 
expected to find various monstrosities, gigantic machines, 
flying metals, and animated substances. 

“ No sir, but a young man whom I love, and who 
comes to implore your kindness, which we know is equal 
to your talent ; for is it not infinite ?” he added, 
shrewdly. “We have come to consult you a second 
time, after an interval of sixteen years, upon an impor- 
tant matter, and upon which I am as ignorant as a per- 
fumer.” 

“ Weil, what is it ?” 

“ I am aware that you devote your midnight studies 
to the subject of hair, and that you are engaged in ana- 
lyzing it ; while you were thus occupied in a scientific 


130 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


point of view, I was thinking of it in a commercial 
light.” 

“ My dear Monsieur Birotteau, what do you desire of 
me ? My analysis of hair ?” He took up a small 
paper. “ I am to read the Academy of Sciences an arti- 
cle upon this subject. The hair is formed of a consider- 
able quantity of mucus, a small quantity of white oil, a 
good deal of greenish black oil, a few atoms of oxide of 
manganese and phosphate of lime, a very small quantity 
of carbonate of lime, silex and considerable sulphur. 
The different proportions of these materials produce the 
varieties of color in hair. Thus, red hair has much 
more greenish black oil than the others.” 

Cesar and Popinot opened their eyes to a ridiculous 
width. 

“Nine ingredients!” exclaimed Birotteau. “What! 
metals and oils in a single hair ! It’s well it’s you, sir, 
a man whom I revere, who says so, or I shouldn’t believe 
you. Extraordinary ! God is great, Monsieur Vau- 
quelin.” 

“ Hair is produced by a sort of sack-like organ,” 
resumed the chemist, “ a kind of pocket open at its two 
extremities : at one end this organ is attached by nerves 
or vessels and at the other issues the hair. According 
to several of our learned members, and, among them, M. 
de Blainville, hair is a dead substance expelled from 
this pocket or crypt, which is filled with pulpy matter.” 

“Just as if it was perspiration in sticks,” said Popi- 
not, upon which the perfumer immediately gave him a 
slight kick in the heel. 

Vauquelin smiled at Popinot’s idea. 

“ Promising, isn’t he ?” said Cesar, thereupon looking 
at Popinot. “ But, sir, if hair is still-born, it’s impossible 
to make it live, and we are done up ! Our prospectus is 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


131 


absurd ! You’ve no idea how queer the public is ; we 
can’t go and tell people — ” 

“ That they’ve got a heap of decaying straw on their 
heads,” said Popinot, who wanted to make Vauquelin 
laugh again. 

“ Or aerial catacombs,” added the chemist, continuing 
the joke. 

“To think that I’ve gone and bought the nuts,” cried 
Birotteau, alive to his mercantile loss. “But why do 
people sell — ” 

. “ Don’t be alarmed,” interrupted Vauquelin, smiling, 
“ I see that you are thinking of some secret for prevent- 
ing the hair from coming out or turning gray. Now I’ll 
just give you my opinion on that subject, after careful 
investigation.” 

Here Popinot pricked up his ears like a scaled rabbit. 

“ The loss of color in this substance, whether it be 
dead or alive, is, in my view, produced by an interrup- 
tion in the secretion of the coloring matter — a theory 
which would explain how the hair of animals provided 
with fur becomes pale and white in winter,^ in cold 
climates.” 

“ Listen to that, Popinot.” 

“It is clear,” resumed Vauquelin, “that this change, 
in hair is due to sudden variations in the circumambient 
temperature — ” 

“Circumambient, Popinot!” cried Cesar; “ hold on 
to that !” 

“Yes,” continued Vauquelin, “ due to alternate cold 
and heat, or to internal phenomena producing the same 
effects. Thus it is probable that nervous headaches and 
affections of the head generally, absorb, dissipate or dis- 
place the generating fluid. The internal causes concern 


132 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


the doctors. As to those which are external, your cos- 
metics come in.” 

“ Good,” cried Birotteau, “ you bring me back to life. 
I have been thinking of selling a nut oil, remembering 
that the ancients used oil for their hair, and the ancients 
are the ancients ! I am of Boileau’s opinion there. 
Why did athletes anoint — ” 

“ Olive oil is as good as nut oil,” said Vauquelin, with- 
out paying attention to Birotteau. “ Any oil is useful 
in preserving the bulb from impressions likely to injure 
the substances which it contains at work, or in solution, 
as we should say, if it were a question of chemistry. 
You perhaps are right, however ; nut oil contains, 
Dupuytren tells me, a stimulant. I will endeavor to 
discover what difference exists between various oils — 
that of the beech nut, the olive, colza, avelines, etc.” 

“ Then I was not mistaken,” said Birotteau, trium- 
phantly, “ I have met a truly great man. Macassar is 
swamped ! Macassar, sir, is a cosmetic given, or rather 
sold, and sold dear, to make the hair grow.” 

“My dear Monsieur Birotteau, not two ounces of 
Macassar oil have ever been brought to Europe. 
Macassar oil has not the slightest influence upon the 
growth of hair, but the Malays give its weight in gold 
for it on account of its influence in preserving it, without 
knowing that whale oil is quite as efficient. No power 
either chemical or divine — ” 

“ Oh, divine — don’t say that, Monsieur Vauquelin.” 

“ But, my good sir, the first law that God obeys, is 
that which requires him to be consistent with himself ; 
without unity, there is no power.” 

“ Oh, in that point of view — ” 

“Well, then, no power either human or divine, can 
make hair grow on bald heads ; nor will you ever be 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


133 


able to dye, without danger, red or gray hair ; but, in 
setting forth the advantages of your oil, you will com- 
mit no error, and I believe that those who use it may 
keep the hair they’ve got.” 

“ Do you think the Royal Academy of Sciences 
would endorse — ” 

“Oh, there is no discovery in it,” replied Vauquelin. 
“ Besides, quacks and others have so abused the name 
of the Academy, that you would be none the better for 
it. My conscience will not permit me to consider nut 
oil as a marvel.” 

“What would be the best method of extraction?” 
asked Birotteau. “ Decoction or pressure ?” 

“ By pressure between two hot plates, the oil would 
be more' abundant ; cold pressed, it would be of better 
quality. It should be applied,” added Vauquelin, kindly, 
“upon the scalp itself, and not simply rubbed upon 
the hair ; in this case the entire effect would be lost.” 

“Remember that, Popinot,” said Birotteau, in a state 
of enthusiasm which illuminated his face. “You see 
before you, sir, a young man who will count this day 
among the most eventful of his life. He knew and 
revered you, sir, though he had not seen you. Ah, we often 
talk about you, sir, at home, for the name which is 
nearest one’s heart often rises to one’s lips. My wife, 
my daughter, and myself, pray for you every day, as 
people ought for their benefactors.” 

“That is too much for so little,” said Vauquelin, 
annoyed by the perfumer’s profuse gratitude. 

“Well,” returned Birotteau, “you cannot prevent us 
from loving you, as you will accept nothing else from 
us. You are like the sun, you scatter your light over 
the world, and those to whom you give it can make no 
return.” 


134 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


The savant smiled and rose, whereupon the perfumer 
and Popinot rose too. 

“Anselme, look at this study well. Pray allow him, 
sir; your moments are precious, I know, but he may 
never come here again.” 

“ Are you satisfied with the state of business ?” asked 
Vauquelin, “ for you and I are both engaged in trade.” 

“ Pretty well, sir,” said Birotteau, retiring towards 
the dining-room, whither Vauquelin followed him. “ But 
to start this oil under the name of Comageneous Essence, 
I want a pretty heavy capital.” 

“ Essence and Comageneous are two words which 
can’t go together. Call your cosmetic ‘Birotteau’s Oil.’ 
Or if you don't want your name to appear, take any 
other name. Bless me, here’s the Madonna of Dresden ! 
Ah, Monsieur Birotteau, you want to pick a quarrel with 
me.” 

“ Monsieur Vauquelin,” said the perfumer, taking the 
chemist’s hand, “ this engraving, rare as it is, has no 
value beyond that resulting from the persistence with 
which I have hunted for it. I have had all Germany 
ransacked, to obtain it upon India paper and before the 
letter ; I knew you desired it, and your occupations left 
you no time to seek for it, so I made myself your trav- 
eling agent. Accept then, not a paltry picture but a 
zeal, a wish to please, and a solicitude which attest an 
absolute devotion. I could have wished that you had 
desired something to be found only at the bottom of a 
precipice, that I might have come to you and said, 

‘ Here it is !’ Do not refuse me. We are so likely to 
be forgotton, let me put myself, my wife, my daughter, 
and my son-in-law, whoever he may be, thus constantly 
before your eyes. You shall say to yourself as you look 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


135 


at the Madonna, ‘ Good-hearted people, those, and they 
sometimes think of me !’” 

“I accept,” said Vauquelin. 

Popinot and Birotteau wiped their eyes, profoundly 
affected by the kind accent in which the academician 
pronounced these words. 

“Will you not make your kindness complete?” asked 
the perfumer. 

“ How ?” said Vauquelin. 

“ I collect together a few friends ” (here he raised him- 
self upon his heels, assuming, nevertheless, an air of 
humility) “as much to celebrate the evacuation of the 
territory as to commemorate by admission into the 
Legion of Honor — ” 

“Ah !” said Vauquelin, astonished. 

“ It may be that I rendered myself worthy of this 
distinguished and royal favor by sitting upon the con- 
sular bench, and fighting for the Bourbons on the steps 
of St. Roch, where I was wounded by Napoleon. My 
wife gives a ball some three weeks hence ; pray come, 
sir. Do us the honor to dine with us on that day. For 
me, it will be as if I received the decoration twice. We 
will send you a written invitation in time ” 

“Very well, I’ll come,” said Vauquelin. 

“ My heart swells with joy,” said the perfumer, in 
the street. “ I am afraid I’ve forgotten what he said 
about the hair ; do you remember, Popinot ?* 

“ Yes sir, and twenty years hence, I shall remember it, 
too.” 

“ He’s a great man ! What an eye ! What penetra- 
tion !” exclaimed Birotteau. “ Without making any 
fuss, or taking any time to think, off he went, guessed 
our thoughts, and told us how to smash Macassar. Ah, 
nothing can make the hair grow, eh ? Then, Macassar, 


136 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


thou liest. Popinot, we hold our fortune in our hands. 
So, to-morrow, at seven in the morning x let us be at the 
factory, the nuts will come and we’ll make some oil, 
for its no use saying one oil is as good as another, we 
should be ruined if the public knew it. If we didn’.t 
put a little nut and a little scent in our oil, what pretext 
should we have for asking three or four francs for four 
ounces ?” 

“ So you are to be decorated, sir ?” said Popinot. 
“ What an honor for — ” 

“ For trade, you mean, my boy, don’t you ?” 

The triumphant manner of Cesar Birotteau, now 
confident of making a fortune, was noticed by his clerks 
who made signs to each other, for the ride in a carriage, 
and the toilet of the cashier and the master, had led 
them to invent the most extravagant tales to account for 
it. The mutual satisfaction of Cesar and Anselme, 
betrayed by the glances which they diplomatically 
exchanged, the hopeful look which Popinot twice gave 
Cesarine, announced some important occurrence and 
confirmed the clerks’ conjectures. In a life thus busily 
occupied and, as it were, cloister-like, the slightest inci- 
dents were clothed with an importance such as that with 
which a prisoner endows those of his prison. The atti- 
tude of Madame Cesar, who responded to the Olympian 
gaze of her husband by an air of doubt, indicated some 
new enterprise, for, under ordinary circumstances she 
would have been well pleased, gay as she always was 
when business had been prosperous. By unusual luck, 
the receipts of the day had amounted to six thousand 
francs, several bills in arrears having been unexpectedly 
paid in. 

The dining-room, and the kitchen, which was lighted 
from a small court-yard and separated from the dining- 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


137 


room by an entry into which led the staircase pierced 
in a corner of the back-shop, were on the entre-sol, where 
the room of Cesar and Constance had lately been — so 
that the dining-room in which the honeymoon had been 
spent had the appearance of a little parlor. During 
dinner, Raguet, the shop-boy, watched the store, but, at 
dessert, the clerks came down again, and allowed Cesar, 
his wife and daughter, to finish their meal before the 
fire. This custom was derived from the Ragons, with 
whom the traditions of tradespeople which they still 
maintained, kept up, between them and their clerks, the 
enormous distance which had lately existed between 
masters and apprentices. Cesarine and Constance then 
prepared the perfumer’s cup of coffee, which he sipped, 
sitting in an easy chair in the chimney corner. During 
this hour Cesar informed his wife of any little incidents 
of the day, told her what he had seen in the city, what 
was going on at the Faubourg du Temple, and what 
difficulties he encountered at the factory. 

“ Wife,” said he, when the clerks had gone down, 
“this has certainly been one of the most important days 
of our life ! The nuts bought, the hydraulic press 
ready to work to-morrow, and the affair of the land 
concluded ! Here, put this carefully away,” he added, 
giving her Pillerault’s check upon the bank. “ The 
re-decoration of our rooms decided upon, and our quar- 
ters enlarged ! Dear me, I have seen a very queer man 
at the Cour Batave.” And he told her of Monsieur 
Molineux. 

“ I see,” replied his wife, interrupting him in the 
midst of an eloquent burst, “ I see that you have run in 
debt for two hundred thousand francs.” 

“ So I have, wife,” returned the perfumer with feigned 
humility, “ mercy on us, how shall we ever pay it ? 


138 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


For of course we must consider as nothing the lands of 
the Madeleine, destined some day to be the finest part 
of Paris.” 

“ Yes, some day, Cesar,” 

“ Alas,” he went on, continuing the jest, “ my three- 
eighths won’t be worth a million for six years to come. 



And how can we pay two hundred thousand francs,” he 
resumed, making a gesture expressive of great dismay. 
‘‘Well, we’ll pay it with this,” and he drew from his 
pocket one of Madame Madou’s nuts, which he had 
carefully preserved. 

He held the nut out to Cesarine and Constance 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


130 


between his two fingers. His wife said nothing, but 
Cesarine, whose curiosity was excited, said to her father, 
on giving him his coffee, “You must be joking, papa!” 

The perfumer, as well as his clerks, had noticed the 
glances thrown by Popinot at Cesarine during dinner, 
and was determined to clear up his suspicions. 

“ Well, daughter,” he said, “ this nut is the cause of a 
revolution in the house. From this evening forth, 
there will be one person the less under our roof.” 

Cesarine looked at her father with an air which 
seemed to say, “ What do I care ?” 

“ Popinot is going away.” 

Although Cesar was a poor observer, and had pre- 
pared this last phrase as much to lay a trap for his 
daughter as to be able to mention the creation of the 
house of A. Popinot and Company, his paternal fondness 
enabled him to understand the confused sentiments 
that sprang from his daughter’s heart, bloomed in red 
roses upon her cheeks and forehead, and even tinged her 
eyes, which she was glad to lower. Cesar now believed 
that Cesarine and Popinot had spoken to each other ; 
but such was not the case ; they understood each other, 
like all timid lovers, without having uttered a word. 

Certain moralists hold the opinion that love is the 
most involuntary, the most disinterested, the least calcu- 
lating, of the passions, with the exception, of course, of 
maternal love. This opinion involves a vulgar error. 
Though the greater part of men are ignorant of the 
causes which lead them to love, all physical and moral 
sympathy is none the less founded upon calculations 
made either by the mind, by the heart, or by passion. 
Love is an essentially selfish passion. Selfishness signi- 
fies profound calculation. Thus to a mind only struck 
by results, it may seem, at first glance, unlikely or sin- 


140 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


gular, that a fine girl like Cesarine should be captivated 
by a poor, limping, red-headed boy. This phenomenon 
is nevertheless in harmony with the arithmetic of the 
sentiments among the bourgeois. This explanation will 
render intelligible the extraordinary matches constantly 
taking place between tall women and little men, between 
ugly little girls and fine healthy youths. Every man 
affected by a defect of physical conformation, by a club- 
foot, by legs of unequal length, by the various kinds of 
hunch-back, by extreme hideousness, by wine-stains 
upon the face, by fig-leaves upon the body, and by other 
monstrosities, independent of the will of his parents, has 
but two courses to take : either to make himself for- 
midable or to become exquisitely good. He cannot 
allow himself to float between the two extremes as do the 
generality of men. In the former case, he must have 
talent, genius, or strength ; and man can only inspire 
terror by his power for evil, respect by his genius, fear 
by his superior wit. In the latter case, he easily makes 
himself adored, becomes an admirable butt for feminine 
tyranny, and loves better than those who possess a per- 
fect physical development. 

Brought up by a virtuous family, the Ragons, the 
models of the most honorable bourgeoisie, and by his 
uncle, Judge Popinot, Anselme had been led, by his sim- 
plicity and his religious sentiments, to seek to redeem 
his slight bodily infirmity by the perfection of his char- 
acter. Struck by this tendency which renders youth so 
charming, Constance and Cesar had often praised 
Anselme in the presence of Cesarine. Small in other 
respects the two shop-keepers were great in soul, and 
well understood what concerned the heart. These 
praises found an echo in the young girl’s soul ; in spite 
of her innocence, she read in Anselme’s pure eyes his 


OF CESAR BIROTTEATI. 


141 


violent passion — and this is always flattering, whatever 
may be the age, the rank, or the appearance of the 
lover. Little Popinot naturally had more reasons for 
loving a woman than a handsome man. If she were 
beautiful, he would be madly fond of her to his dying 
day, his love would render him ambitious, he would 
wear his fingers to the bone to make his wife happy, he 
would let her be mistress at home, and would bend his 
neck to the yoke without being asked. So thought 
Cesarine, involuntarily, and perhaps not altogether fool- 
ishly ; she had had glimpses of the harvests of love and 
reasoned by comparison. The happiness of her mother 
was before her eyes, and she desired no other life ; her 
instinct showed her another Cesar in Anselme, though 
improved by education, as she had been by hers. She 
imagined Popinot the mayor of a ward, and took plea- 
sure in representing herself collecting alms in her church 
as her mother did at St. Roch. She had come to per- 
ceive no difference between Popinot’s right leg and his 
left, and might have asked with perfect ingenuousness, 
“ Does he really limp ?” She loved his clear liquid eyes, 
and had been happy in observing the effects of a look 
from her upon them ; they lighted up at once with a 
timid fire, and then were sadly lowered. 

Roguin’s head clerk, Alexander Crottat, endowed with 
that precocious experience due to business habits, had a 
half cynical, half simple manner, which displeased 
Cesarine, already disgusted by his commonplace conver- 
sation. Popinot’s silence denoted a mild temper ; she 
liked his half melancholy smile when insignificant trifles 
amused him ; the follies at which he derisively laughed 
were always more or less repulsive to her, so that they 
were gay and serious together. This advantage did not 
prevent Anselme from working assiduously at his duties, 


142 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


and his indefatigable ardor pleased Cesarine, for she 
•divined that though the clerks were in the habit of say- 
ing “ Cesarine is to marry Monsieur Roguin’s head 
clerk,” the poor, limping, red-haired Anselme did not 
despair of obtaining her hand. A great hope proves a 
great love. 

“ Where is he going to ?” inquired Cesarine of her 
father, endeavoring to look unconcerned. 

“ He sets up for himself in the Rue des Cinq Dia- 
mants, and upon my word, it shall be as God pleases,” 
said Birotteau, whose concluding phrase was understood 
neither by his wife, nor his daughter. 

When Birotteau met with any moral difficulty, he did 
as insects do with an obstacle, he went round it ; so he 
changed the conversation, determining to have a talk 
with his wife about Cesarine. 

“ I told your uncle of your fears and ideas concern- 
ing Roguin, and he laughed at them,” said he to Con- 
stance. 

“ You ought never to reveal what we say to each 
other in private,” exclaimed Constance ; “ poor Roguin 
is perhaps the most honest man in the world, he is fifty- 
eight years old, and doubtless, thinks no more — ” 

She stopped short on seeing that Cesarine was listen- 
ing, and gave Cesar a significant glance. 

“ So I did well to conclude,” said he. 

“ You are the master,” she replied. 

Cesar took his wife’s hand and kissed her forehead. 
This reply was always, with her, a tacit consent to the 
novel doings of her husband. 

“ Come,” cried the perfumer, going down-stairs to the 
shop and addressing the clerks, “ we’ll shut up at ten 
to-night. Gentlemen, lend me a hand ! We are to 
carry all the furniture from the first story to the second, 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


143 


during the night ! We must put the little pots in the 
big ones, as they say, so that to-morrow, my architect 
may have elbow-room.” 

“ Popinot has gone out without leave,” said Cesar to 
himself, on seeing that he was not present. “ Dear me, 
I forgot, he doesn’t sleep here any more. He has either 
gone to put the ideas of Vauquelin on paper, or to hire 
a shop.” 

“ We are aware of the cause of this revolution,” said 
Celestin, speaking as the mouth-piece of Raguet and the 
two clerks, who stood in a group behind him. “Will 
you permit us to congratulate you, sir, upon an honor 
which reflects credit upon the whole shop. Popinot has 
told us — ” 

“ Well, my boys, it’s true ; I have been decorated. 
So, not only on account of the evacuation of the terri- 
tory, but in order to celebrate my admission to the 
Legion of Honor, I collect ipy friends together. Per- 
haps I rendered myself worthy of this distinguished and 
royal favor in sitting on the consular bench and fighting 
for the royal cause, which I espoused — at your age — on 
the steps of St. Roch, on the 13th Vendemiaire, and 
where, as true as I’m alive, Napoleon, often called the 
Emperor, wounded me ! Wounded in the thigh, at 
that, and Madame Ragon dressed it. So always be 
courageous, and you shall be rewarded ! You see, boys, 
how a misfortune always comes out right in the end.” 

“ There will be no more fighting in the streets,” said 
Celestin. 

“Let us hope there won’t,” returned Cesar, who pro- 
ceeded to administer a reprimand to his clerks, and 
wound up by inviting them all to the ball. 

The prospect of this ball animated the three clerks, 
Raguet and Virginie, with an ardor which gave them 


144 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


the dexterity of jugglers. They all of them came and 
went, well laden, up and down stairs, without breaking 
anything, or knocking anything over. At two in the 
morning, the moving was done. Cesar and his wife 
slept in the second story. The chamber of Popinot 
became that of Celestin and the second clerk. The 
third story furnished temporary storage for the furniture. 

Popinot, possessed by that magnetic ardor resulting 
from an overplus of the nervous fluid and converting 
the heart, in persons ambitious or in love, when ani- 
mated by lofty designs, into a brazier — Popinot, usually 
so mild and tranquil, had been prancing like a blood 
horse before the race, in the shop, after leaving the 
table. 

“ What’s the matter ?” said Celestin. 

“ What a day ! I set up for myself, sir,” he whispered 
in his ear; “ Monsieur Cesar has got the cross.” 

“You are a lucky fellow,” cried Celestin, “master 
assists you.” 

Popinot did not answer, he disappeared, driven by 
that most violent of gales, the breeze of prosperity. 

“ Oh, as to his being lucky,” said one of the clerks 
engaged in laying out gloves by dozens, to another who 
was verifying labels, “ master has noticed the eyes that 
Popinot has been making at Mademoiselle Cesarine, and 
as he is very sharp, master is, he gets Anselme off his 
hands ; it would be hard to refuse him on account of his 
relatives. Celestin takes this dodge for generosity.” 

Anselme Popinot followed the Rue St. Honore and 
ran to that des Deux Ecus, to secure a young man whom 
his commercial second sight pointed out to him as des- 
tined to be the principal instrument of his fortune. 
Judge Popinot had rendered a service to the most able 
traveling agent in Paris, whose triumphant glibness 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


145 


and energy obtained for him, somewhat later, the sur- 
name of “ the illustrious.” Especially devoted to the 
hat line, and to articles essentially Parisian, this king of 
commercial travelers was simply and unpretendingly 
named Gaudissart. At the age of twenty-two, he was 
already conspicuous for the potency of his mercantile 
magnetism. At that time he was of slight frame, with 
a sparkling eye and expressive face ; he possessed an 
unfailing memory, and the art to perceive at a glance 
the particular taste of each successive customer. He 
deserved to be what he afterwards became, the king of 
agents, the Frenchman , par excellence. 

Several days previous to this Popinot had met Gau- 
dissart, who had said that he was on the point of leaving 
Paris ; the hope of finding him still in the city was the 
motive which had started Anselme off for the Rue des 
Deux Ecus, where he learned that the traveler had 
taken his place at the diligence office. Properly to bid 
farewell to the capital, Gaudissart had gone to see a new 
play at the Vaudeville ; Popinot determined to wait for 
him. By entrusting the sale of his nut oil to this 
invaluable inaugurator of mercantile inventions, who was 
already petted by the wealthiest houses, would he not 
draw a draft on fortune ? Now Popinot felt sure of 
Gaudissart, for this reason. The commercial agent, so 
versed in the art of cajoling those most refractory people, 
small country traders, had allowed himself to be involved 
in the first conspiracy against the Bourbons, after the 
Hundred Days. Gaudissart, to whom liberty was indis- 
pensable, found himself in prison, held upon a capital 
charge. Judge Popinot, commissioned to investigate 
the affair, had found no ground for an indictment against 
him, believing that his imprudence and folly only had 
compromised him. With a judge anxious to please the 


146 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


party in power, or one of advanced royalist opinions^ 
the unfortunate clerk would have gone to. the scaffold. 
Gaudissart, who felt he owed his life to the examining 
judge, deeply regretted his inability to recognize his 
obligation otherwise than by vain expressions of his 
gratitude. Unable to thank a judge for having admin- 
istered justice, he had gone to the house of the Ragons, 
to declare himself the vassal of all the Popinots. 

While waiting for him, Popinot naturally went to have 
another look at his shop in the Rue des Cinq Diamants, 
and to get the owner’s address, that he might negotiate 
for a lease. Wandering in the obscure labyrinth around 
the markets, and ruminating over the means of organ- 
izing a rapid success, he was enabled, in the Rue Aubry- 
le-Boucher, to seize upon a happy opportunity, not likely 
to occur again, and with which he intended to treat 
Cesar the next morning. Standing on guard at the door 
of the Hotel du Commerce, at the extremity of the Rue 
des Deux Ecus, near midnight, Popinot heard in the dis- 
tance, in the Rue de Grenelle, the closing lines of a play 
sung by Gaudissart with the accompaniment of a cane 
significantly dragged over the paving-stones. 

“Sir,” said Anselme, starting suddenly out from the 
door, “two words.” 

“Eleven, if you like,” said the traveling agent, raising 
his loaded cane upon the aggressor. 

“My name is Popinot,” said poof Anselme. 

“Enough,” said Gaudissart, recognizing him. “ What 
do you want ? Money ? Absent on furlough, but more 
can be had. My aid in a duel ? Pm yours, from the 
feet to the occiput.” And he sang, 

“ Voila, voila, 

Le vrai soldat francais !” 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


147 


“ Come and talk with me for ten minutes ; not in your 
chamber, we might be overheard, but upon the Quai de 
l’Horloge, there’ll be no one there at this time of night,” 
said Popinot ; “ it’s about something of the greatest con- 
sequence.” 

“ All right, come !” 

In ten minutes, Gaudissart, informed of Popinot’s 
secret, had acknowledged its importance. 

M Paraissez, parfumeurs, coiffeurs et debitants !” 

cried Gaudissart, caricaturing Lafon in the character of 
the Cid. “ I’m going to inveigle all the shopkeepers in 
France and Navarre. Oh ! an idea ! I was off to-mor- 
row, but I’ll wait and take commissions in the Paris 
perfumery line.” 

“What for?” 

“ To choke off your rivals, simpleton ! If I take 
their commissions, I can drive their perfidious cosmetics 
out of the market by talking and blowing about none 
but yours. A famous commercial traveler’s trick ! Ha ! 
Ha ! We are the diplomatists of trade. Excellent ! As 
to your prospectus, I’ll undertake to manage it. There’s 
a young fellow, Andoche Finot by name, one of my 
school-day friends, the son of the hatter of the Rue du 
Coq, the old gent who started me on my travels in the 
hat line. Andoche, who has no little wit of his own, 
has taken, besides, that of all the heads that his father 
furnishes ; he is in the literary way, and does up the 
third rate theatres in the Courrier des Spectacles . His 
father, an old cur with plenty of reasons for not liking 
mind, does not believe in mind — impossible to convince 
him that mind has a market value, and that a man may 
make his fortune by mind. The elderly Finot hopes to 
starve the youthful Finot out. Andoche, really an able 


148 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


man and my friend — and I only associate in a com- 
mercial point of view with flats — writes mottoes for the 
Faithful Shepherd which pays him well, while the 
newspapers on^which he works like a galley-slave, feed 
him on mortifications and refusals. The jealousy that 
exists in that line is incredible — just as in “ Paris goods.” 
Finot had written a superb comedy in one act for Made- 
moiselle Mars — ah, there’s an actress that I adore ! Well, 
what do you think, to get it acted he had to take it to 
the Gaite ! Andoche understands the prospectuses, he 
enters into the views of the dealer ; he isn’t proud, he’ll 
get up our circular gratis. We’ll treat him to cake and 
a bowl of punch ; and listen, Popinot, no bad jokes ; 
I travel without commission, your competitors shall pay ; 
I’ll hoodwink ’em ; I’ll mystify ’em. Let us under- 
stand each other. Success in this enterprise is, with 
me, an affair of honor. My reward is to be groomsman 
at your wedding. I’ll go to Italy, Germany, England ! 
I’ll carry with me placards in every language. I’ll have 
them stuck up every where, at the church doors in coun- 
try towns, and in all the choice spots that I know in the 
rural districts. Your oil shall glisten, your oil shall 
glow, your oil shall ignite ; it shall be on everybody’s 
head. Ah ! your marriage shall be no marriage over the 
left, but a marriage with mushrooms and wine sauce ! 
You shall have your Cesarine, or I will never be called 
the Illustrious — a name given me by old father Finot, for 
having made his white hats take. In selling your oil, I 
stick to my line, the human head ; nut oil and beavers 
being well-known for their protecting influence upon 
the public hair.” 

Popinot returned to his aunt’s house, where he was to 
sleep, in such a fever, caused by his anticipations of 
success, that the streets seemed to him running streams 


OF CESAR BTROTTEAU. 


149 


of oil. He slept little, dreamed that his hair was grow- 
ing like mad, and saw two angels unrolling, as in a melo- 
drama, a device upon which were inscribed the words 
“ Cesarean Oil.” He woke up, and remembering his 
dream, resolved to give this name to his oil, choosing to 
consider this fantasy of his slumber as an order from on 
high. 

Cesar and Popinot were at the workshop in the Fau- 
bourg du Temple long before the arrival of the nuts. 
While waiting for Madame Madou’s porters, Popinot 
narrated, with triumphant glee, his alliance with Gau- 
dissart. 

“ We possess the illustrious Gaudissart, then we are 
millionaires,” cried the perfumer, giving his hand to his 
book-keeper in a style which doubtless resembled that 
of Louis XIV receiving Marshal Villars on his return 
from Denain. 

“ We’ve got something else still,” said the joyous 
clerk, taking out of his pocket a rather flat looking 
bottle, like an oblong cucumber with sides; “ I have 
found ten thousand vials like this pattern, ready made 
and on hand, at four sous apiece and six months 
credit.” 

“ Anselme,” said Birotteau, contemplating the bewil- 
dering form of this bottle, and speaking in serious tones, 
“ yesterday, in the Tuileries, yes, no longer ago than 
yesterday, you said, I will succeed ! And now I say to 
you, You shall succeed ! Four sous ! Six months ! 
An original shape ! Macassar is off the handle, Macas- 
sar has been dwelt a tremendous blow ! Wasn’t I 
sharp to buy up all the nuts in Paris ! Where did you 
come across these vials ?” 

“I was waiting to talk to Gaudissart, and was loung- 
ing about — ” 


150 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


“ Just like me the other day,” cried Birotteau. x 

“ Going down through the Rue Aubry-le*Boucher, I 
noticed, in the shop of a wholesale dealer in glass globes 
and hollow ware, who has an immense establishment, I 
noticed this flacon. It dazzled me like a sudden flash 
of light, and I heard a voice which said, “ That’s the 
very thing !” 

“ Born a tradesman; he’ll get my daughter,” mut- 
tered Cesar. 

« “ I went in, and saw thousands of similar flacons 
packed in boxes.” 

“ You didn’t ask about them ?” 

“You don’t think me such a sap-head!” cried 
Anselme, in mortification. 

“ Born a tradesman,” repeated Cesar. 

“ I asked for globes to put little wax figures under. 
While inquiring the price, I found fault with the form 
of these bottles. Led on to make a clean breast of it, 
my gentleman acknowledged that Faille and Bouchot, 
who failed lately, were to have got up a cosmetic, and 
wanted vials of some peculiar shape ; he was suspicious 
of them and required half the amount in cash. Faille 
and Bouchot, in the hope of succeeding, let him have 
the money, but burst during the manufacture. The 
receivers, called upon to pay, had just compromised with 
him by leaving him the bottles and the money advanced, 
as an indemnity for an article claimed to be ridiculous 
and unsaleable. The bottles cost eight sous to make, and 
he would be happy to get rid of them at four. Heaven 
knows how long he would have to keep such a repul- 
sive thing on hand. 4 Will you engage,’ I said, ‘ to sup- 
ply ten thousand of them at four sous ? I can take 
them off your hands, I am clerk at Monsieur Birotteau’s.’ 
So I commenced operating upon him, I twisted him 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


151 


round, I got the better of him, I warmed him up, and 
he surrendered !” 

“ Four sous,” said Birotteau. “ Do you know that 
we can put the oil as low as three francs, give twenty 
sous discount, and make thirty clear?” 

“ Cesarean Oil !” cried Popinot. 

“ Cesarean Oil ? Ah, my young gentleman in love, 
you want to flatter both father and daughter ! Let it 
go, though, I’m willing ; Cesarean Oil ! The Caesars 
controlled the world, they doubtless had fine heads of 
hair.” .* 

“ Caesar was bald,” suggested Popinot. 

“ Because he didn’t use our oil ! We’ll say so, at 
any rate ! Three francs for Cesarean Oil, while Macas- 
sar costs double. Gaudissart is on hand ; we’ll make one 
hundred thousand francs in the year, for we’ll cajole 
every head with any respect for itself into buying twelve 
bottles a year, or eighteen francs net ! Ten thousand 
heads ! One hundred and eighty thousand francs ! We 
are millionaires !” 

On the delivery of the nuts, Raguet, the workmen, 
Popinot and Cesar prepared a sufficient quantity, and by 
four o’clock obtained a few pounds of oil. Popinot pre- 
sented the product to Vauquelin, who gave Popinot a 
formula for mixing the essence of nuts with less expen- 
sive oleaginous substances, and for scenting it. Popinot 
took immediate steps for procuring the necessary 
patents. The devoted Gaudissart lent Popinot the 
money with which to pay the fiscal charges, the clerk 
being ambitious to contribute his half to the expenses of 
opening the establishment. 

Prosperity invariably brings with it an intoxication 
which inferior men never can bear. This excitement 
resulted as might easily have been foreseen. Grindot 


152 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


came, presented a colored sketch of the charming inte- 
rior of Birotteau’s rooms, as they would appear when 
decorated and furnished. Birotteau was overcome and 
consented to everything. Masons were speedily dealing 
blows with pickaxes which made both the house and 
Constance groan. The painter, Monsieur Lourdois, a 
very rich contractor, who promised to give the matter 
his own personal attention, talked of gilding the parlor. 
At this word, Constance interfered. 

“ Monsieur Lourdois,” she said, “ you have an in- 
cogie of thirty thousand francs, you dwell in your own 
house, you can do whatever you like to it ; but as for 
us—” 

“ Madame, it seems to me that tradespeople ought to 
shine whenever they can, and not let themselves be 
crushed by the aristocracy. Here is Monsieur Birotteau 
in the government, he is a prominent man.” 

“Yes, but he’s a shop-keeping man, too,” retorted 
Constance, before her clerks and the five persons who 
heard her ; “ neither he nor I, nor his friends nor his 
enemies, will forget it.” 

Birotteau raised himself upon his toes, and fell back 
upon his heels several times, with his hands crossed 
behind his back. 

“ My wife is right,” he said. “ We will be humble 
in our prosperity. Besides, as long as a man is in 
business, he should be prudent in his expenditures, 
unostentatious in his luxury ; the law requires this when 
it says that he shall not incur expenses deemed excessive. 
If the enlargement and decoration of my lodgings are 
unreasonably costly, it would be imprudent in me to go 
beyond proper limits, and you yourself would blame me, 
Lourdois. The neighborhood has its eyes upon me, and 
people look with jealous and envious gaze upon fortune’s 


153 


X 

OF o£sar birotteau. 

favorites ! You’ll soon find that out, young man,” he 
said to Grindot ; “if they calumniate us, at least give 
them no reason for scandal.” 

‘‘Neither calumny nor scandal can reach you,” said 
Lourdois ; “ you occupy a fine position, you are so used 
to business that you know how to calculate your under- 
takings ; you are a sharp one, you are.” 

“True, I have some experience in business matters. 
By the way, do you know why we enlarge ? If I exact 
a heavy forfeit in case of non-fulfilment, it is because — ” 

“ No, I don’t know.” 

“It is because my wife and I collect a few friends 
together, as much to celebrate the evacuation of the ter- 
ritory, as to commemorate my admission into the Legion 
of Honor.” 

“ What ! what ! They have given you the cross !” 

“ Yes. I perhaps rendered myself worthy of this 
distinguished and royal favor, in sitting on the consular 
bench, and in fighting for the royal cause on the 13th 
of Vendemiaire, at St. Roch, when I was wounded by 
Napoleon. I shall be happy to see you ; bring your 
wife and daughter.” 

“ Delighted, I’m sure, at the honor you are good 
enough to do us ;” said Lourdois, who was a liberal, 
“ but you are a cunning one, papa Birotteau ; you invite 
me so as to make sure I won’t be behind time. Very 
good. I’ll bring my best workmen; we’ll make a terrific 
fire, to dry the paint ; we have several drying processes, 
too, for it won’t do to dance in a fog exhaled from 
plaster. We’ll slick up with a coat of varnish, to take 
away the smell.” 

Three days afterwards, the tradespeople of the neigh- 
borhood were greatly excited by the announcement of 
the ball that Birotteau was preparing. Besides, every 


154 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


one could see the props upon the outside, made neces- 
sary by the rapid change of the staircase, the square 
wooden troughs through which the rubbish was thrown 
down into carts standing there for the purpose. The 
workmen vigorously laboring by the light of torches, for 
there were day gangs and night gangs, attracted a crowd 
of idlers and lookers-on in the street, and the gossips 
found sufficient grounds in these preparations for 
announcing the most stupendous festivities. 

Upon the Sunday agreed upon for the conclusion of 
the bargain, Monsieur aad Madame Ragon, and uncle 
Pillerault, came about four o’clock, after Vespers. On 
account of the demolition which was going on, Cesar 
said, he had invited for that occasion none but Charles 
Claparon, Crottat and Roguin. The notary brought the 
Journal des Debats , in which M. de la Bil lard i ere had 
caused the insertion of the following article : 

“We understand that the evacuation of the territory 
is to be celebrated with enthusiasm throughout the 
country, but at Paris the members of the municipal 
body feel acutely that the time has come to restore that 
splendor to the capital which had been very properly 
suspended during the foreign occupation. Each of the 
mayors and deputies intends to give a ball, so that the 
winter promises to be very brilliant ; this national 
impulse will be followed up. Among all the anticipated 
festivities, none excites so much interest as the ball of 
Monsieur Birotteau, lately made a knight of the Legion 
of Honor, and so well known for his attachment to the 
royal cause. Monsieur Birotteau, wounded in the con- 
test at St. Roch, on the 13th of Vendemiaire, and one of 
the most respected of our consular judges, is doubly 
deserving of this honor.” 

“ How well people write now-a-days,” exclaimed Cesar. 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


155 


“ They’ve got something about us in the paper,” he said 
to Pillerault. 

“ Well, what if they have !” replied his uncle, who had 
a peculiar detestation of the Journal des Debats. 

“ This article will perhaps help us sell our Sultana 
Paste and Carminative Water,” said Constance in 
Madame Ragon’s ear, without at all sharing the trans- 
ports of her husband. 

Madame Ragon, a tall, dried-up and withered lady, 
with a pinched nose and thin lips, looked somewhat like 
a marchioness of the old school. Quite a wide space 
around her eyes had become soft and flabby, as is often 
the case with old women who have been tried by misfor- 
tune. Her expression, which, though affable, was serene 
and dignified, impressed the beholder with respect. She 
had about her, too, that inexpressible singularity which 
takes one by surprise, though without exciting laughter, 
and which, in her case, was rendered intelligible by her 
dress and her peculiar ways. She wore lace mittens, 
and went out, whatever the weather, with a long- 
handled parasol like that which Marie Antoinette used 
at Trianon ; her robe, the usual color of which was that 
pale brown called “ dead-leaf” color, lay over the hips in 
inimitable folds, the secrets of which the dowagers of 
other days have carried away with them. She invaria- 
bly appeared in a black mantilla trimmed with black 
lace of a coarse square mesh ; her caps, of an antique 
pattern, were open-worked like old-fashioned carved 
frames. She took snuff with the most exquisite neat- 
ness, and with gestures which will be remembered by 
such young people of our time as have had the happi- 
ness of seeing their great-aunts or grandmothers sol- 
emnly replace their golden boxes by them upon the 


156 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


table, and shake off the loose grains from their necker- 
chiefs. 

Monsieur Ragon was a little man not over five feet 
high, with a nut-cracker face of which nothing was visi- 
ble but the eyes, two sharp cheek-bones, a nose and a 
chin ; he had no teeth, swallowed half what he said, had 
a dribbling style of conversation, was gallant and preten- 
tious, and continually smiled the smile with which he 
had been accustomed to receive the fair dames whom 
various errands brought to his shop-door. Upon his 
skull, executed in powder, was a snowy, nicely-scraped 
half-moon flanked by two wings which were separated 
by a small cue tied up in a ribbon. He wore a light 
blue coat, white waistcoat, tights and silk stockings, 
shoes with gold buckles, and black silk gloves. The 
most striking peculiarity of his character was his way of 
walking about the streets with his hat in his hand. He 
looked like a messenger of the Chamber of Peers, an 
usher of the private apartments of the king ; in short, 
like one of those people occupying a position so near a 
power as to receive a reflection from it, while remaining 
nothing to speak of himself. 

“ Well, Birotteau,” he said with an important air, 
“ have you repented, boy, of having listened to us in 
the good old times? Have you ever doubted the grati- 
tude of our well-beloved sovereigns ?” 

“ You must be very happy, my dear,” said Madame 
Ragon to Madame Birotteau. 

“ Well, yes,” returned the fair vendor of perfumes, 
still, as she ever had been, under the influence of the 
long-handled umbrella, the butterfly caps, the tight 
sleeves and the large neckerchiefs a la Julie which 
Madame Ragon wore. 

“ Cesarine is charming to-day. Come here, pretty 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


157 


one,” she said, in her shrill voice and with a patronizing 
manner. 

“ Shall we finish up our business before dinner,” said 
uncle Pillerault. 

“ We are waiting for Monsieur Claparon,” said 
Roguin • “ I left him dressing himself.” 

“ Monsieur Roguin,” said Cesar, “ I hope you told 
him we were to dine in a miserable little entre-sol — ” 

“ He thought it splendid sixteen years ago, ” mur- 
mured Constance. 

“In the midst of rubbish and with workmen all 
1 round.” 

“Oh, you’ll find him a regular good fellow, and easy 
to get along with,” said Roguin.” 

“ I have put Raguet on guard in the shop, there’s no 
passage through our door ; you saw how things are 
pulled down,” said Cesar to the notary. 

f “Why didn’t you bring your nephew?” said Pille- 
rault to Madame Ragon. 

“ Shall we see him ?” asked Cesarine. 

“No, sweet,” returned Madame Ragon. “Anselme, 

I poor child, is working ready to kill himself. That 
street, where there’s neither air nor sun, that foul Rue 
des Cinq Diamants frightens me. The gutter always 
runs blue, green or black. I’m afraid he’ll come to his 
i death there. But when young folks have got some- 
thing in their head, it’s no use,” she whispered to Cesa- 
rine, at the same time making a gesture which told that 
; the word “ head ” was to be understood as meaning 
I “heart.” 

“ Has he signed his lease ?” asked Cesar. 

“ Yesterday, and before a notary. He has got eighteen 
; years, but they require six months rent in advance.” 
“Well, Monsieur Ragon, are you satisfied with me ?” 


158 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


said the perfumer. “ I think I’ve given him the secret 
of a discovery — which — hum — well, well, no matter !” | 

“We know you by heart, Cesar,” said little Ragon,: 
taking and pressing his hands with religious friendship. 

Roguin was not without uneasiness on the subject of 
the arrival of Claparon, whose manners and style might 
alarm these virtuous citizens. He thought it necessary, 
therefore, to prepare their minds. 

“ You are about to see,” said he to Ragon, Pillerault 
and the ladies, “an original who conceals his talents 
under disgustingly bad manners, for he has risen from 
a very low position by mere force of mind. He will 
doubtless acquire better manners by dint of associating 
with bankers. You will meet him, perhaps, upon the 
Boulevard or in a cafe, drinking and playing billiards 
without any cravat, and looking, generally, like the 
biggest ragamuffin in town ; but it’s not so — far from 
it ; at that very moment he is engaged thinking of 
new schemes for stirring up the industrial resources of 
the country.” 

“I understand that,” said Birotteau ; “my very best 
ideas have come to me while lounging about, haven’t 
they, duck ?” 

“Claparon,” resumed Roguin, “makes up during the 
night for the time spent in hunting out and inventing 
schemes during the day. All men of great talent lead a 
queer and inexplicable life. Still, in spite of his irregular 
ways — I’ve seen it myself — he gains his ends ; he has 
made all our landholders give in ; at first they held 


back, they suspected something ; but Claparon took the “ 


in hand, he mystified them, he tired them out, he we 
to see them every day, and here we are in possession 
the lots.” 

A peculiar broum ! broum ! habitually indulged in 



OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


159 


drinkers of Cognac and other strong liquors, announced 
the most eccentric personage of this history, and the 
visible arbiter of Cesar’s destiny. The perfumer dashed 
out into the dark little stair-way, as much to tell Raguet 
to shut up the shop as to excuse himself to Claparon for 
receiving him in the dining-room. 

; “ Oh, monsieur !” Claparon replied, “ it seems a very 
good place for putting vegetables down — that is, I mean, 
for putting figures down.” 

In spite of Roguin’s skilful preparations, Monsieur 
and Madame Ragon — those well-behaved bourgeois — 
the observing Pillerault, and Cesarine and her mother, 
were at first rather unfavorably impressed by this pre- 
tended highflying banker. 

Though only twenty-eight years of age, the ex-com- 
mercial traveler did not possess a hay* upon his head, 
but wore a frizzed wig with corkscrew curls. This 
style of head-dress requires a virgin freshness, a milky 
transparency of skin, and the most charming feminine 
graces ; it therefore threw out, in ignoble relief, a pimply, 
reddish-brown face, as highly-colored as that of a stage 
driver, its precocious wrinkles attesting, by the grimaces 
of their deep and plaited folds, the libertine life he led ; 
his misfortunes were still farther vouched for by the bad 
state of his teeth and the black dots scattered over his 
corrugated skin. Claparon looked like a country actor 
who plays all sorts of parts, and who acts the buffoon 
at the door to attract a crowd, and upon whose cheek 
rouge will no longer stick ; a man worn out by his labors, 
with sticky lips, but a nimble tongue, even in intoxication. 
A face like this, lighted up by the joyous fires of punch, 
was inconsistent with the gravity of business. Claparon 
had been obliged, therefore, to resort to long mimetic 
studies, before being able to get up a demeanor in har- 


160 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


1 


mony with his assumed importance. Du Tillet had 
been present at Claparon’s toilet, like the manager of a 
theatre anxious about the first appearance of his princi-i 
pal actor, for he was afraid that the vulgar habits of this 
very free-liver might bubble up and burst on the banker’s 
surface. 

“ Speak as little as possible,” he said to him. “A 
banker never talks; he acts, thinks, meditates, listens 
and considers. Thus, the more closely to resemble a 
banker, either say nothing or else say nothings. Extin-1 
guish the light of that waggish eye, and make it serious , [ 
at the risk of making it stupid. In politics be on the! 
side of the government, and stick to such generalities as' 
these : ‘ The tax-levy is ponderous. There is no com- 
promise possible between the two parties. The liberals 
are dangerous. a The Bourbons should avoid a struggle. 
Liberalism is the cloak of various concurrent interests.^ 
The Bourbons are preparing us an era of prosperity ; 
let us support them, even if we don’t love them. France 
has been through enough political experiments,’ etc. ' 
Don’t sit down on the tables, remember that you are to 
maintain the dignity of a millionaire. Don’t snuff up 
your snuff like a wooden-legged pensioner ; play with 
your tobacco-box, look at your feet often, or at the ceil- 
ing before you answer a question, in short, look as deep 
as you can. Above all, get rid of your unfortunate 
habit of laying hands on things. In society, a banker 
should appear tired of laying hands on things. Bear in 
mind that you sit up all night, that figures have blunted 
your wits, that so many elements, so many studies, are 
necessary to start the slightest job ! Above all, too, 
abuse the state of business roundly. Business is slow, 
heavy, tough, snaggy. Don’t quit this, and don’t go 
into particulars. Don’t drink too much, and don’t sing 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 161 

your Beranger fooleries at table. If you get drunk, 
you ruin your prospects. Roguin will keep an eye on 
you ; you are to be with a highly moral company, a set 
of decent-minded, virtuous Bourgeois, so don’t frighten 
them by getting off any of your pot-house principles.” 

This tirade had produced upon Charles Claparon’s 
mind an effect like that which his new clothes had pro- 
duced upon his person. This gay and restless person- 
age — hail-fellow-well-met with every body, used to 
free and easy garments in which his body was no more 
confined than were his thoughts in his language, now 
imprisoned in the new suit which the tailor had sent 
home late, and which, awkward and stiff as a ramrod, 
he was trying for the first time, as uneasy in his move- 
ments as in his expressions, now putting his hand upon 
a box or bottle, and now as hastily drawing it back, 
precisely as he stopped midway in a speech — could not 
fail to strike the observing Pillerault by his laughable 
incongruity. His red face, his wig and smart corkscrew 
curls were as inconsistent with his solemn demeanor as 
were his thoughts with his words. But the simple peo- 
ple who now saw him soon came to regard this constant 
jarring as an evidence of preoccupation. 

“ He’s so busy,” said Roguin. 

“ His business gives him precious little education,” 
said Madame Ragon to Cesarine. 

Roguin heard this speech, and put his finger on his 
lips. 

He is rich, capable, and exceedingly honest,” said he, 
bending over to Madame Ragon. 

“ We can overlook a good deal in favor of such quali- 
ties,” said Pillerault to Ragon. 

“ Let us read the papers before dinner,” said Roguin ; 
“ we are alone.” 


162 


.THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


Madame Ragon, Cesarine and Constance left the con- 
tracting parties, Pillerault, Ragon, Cesar, Roguin and 
Claparon, to listen to the papers read by Alexander 
Crottat. Cesar signed, to the order of one of Roguin’s 
clients, a mortgage of forty thousand francs upon his 
lots and factories in the Faubourg du Temple ; he placed 
in Roguin’s hands Pillerault’s check upon the bank, 
gave, without taking a receipt, the twenty thousand 
francs which he had on hand, and the one hundred and 
forty thousand francs in notes made payable to Clapa- 
ron’s order. 

“ I have no receipt to give you, sir,” said Claparon, 
“ you proceed on your part with Monsieur Roguin, as we 
do on ours. The sellers of the lots will receive their dues 
at his office, in cash ; I bind myself no farther than to 
secure you the total of your share with your one hun- 
dred and forty thousand francs in notes.” 

“ True,” said Pillerault. 

“ Now, gentlemen, suppose we call the ladies back, 
for it’s cold without them,” said Claparon with his eye 
on Roguin, as if to learn whether the pleasantry was too 
highly seasoned. 

“ Ladies, your servant! Your daughter, doubtless,” 
said Claparon, indicating Cesarine, and standing stiffly 
up before Birotteau ; well, I must say, you do things 
up scientifically. Not one of the roses that you’ve dis- 
tilled can be compared to her, and perhaps it’s because 
you’ve distilled so many that you succeeded — ” 

v< Upon my word, Pm hungry, and I confess it,” said 
Roguin, interrupting him. 

“Well then, we’ll dine,” said Birotteau. 

“ We are to dine before a notary,” said Claparon, 
with an important air. 









OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


163 


“You do a large business, sir,” said Pillerault, pur- 
posely taking the seat next to Claparon. 

“Oh, exceedingly large,” returned the banker ; “but 
business is heavy, snaggy, think of the canals. Oh, 
the canals ! You can’t imagine how much trouble the 
canals give us ; and naturally enough. The govern- 
ment wants canals. The need of canals is generally 
felt in the provinces, and it interests all branches of 
trade, you see ! Rivers, says Pascal, are moving high- 
ways. We must have tow-paths, therefore. Now, tow- 
paths depend on the embankments, for there are terrible 
gradings and fillings in to be done ; gradings concern the 
poorer classes ; from thence come loans which in the end 
return to the poorer classes! Voltaire says, ’Canals, 
Canards, Canaille r But the government has engineers 
who advise it ; it is difficult to get the better of it, unless 
we have an understanding with it, on account of the 
Chamber ! Ah, sir ! the Chamber gives us the greatest 
possible trouble ; it will not understand the political 
question which is involved in the financial question. 
There is bad faith on one side or the other. You’ll 
hardly believe it, but — you know the Kellers ? Well, 
Franqois Keller is an orator, he attacks the government 
on the subject of appropriations, of canals. Having 
returned home, the rascal meets us with our propositions, 
considers them favorable, and advises an arrangement 
with this very same government which he had just 
attacked so insolently. The interest of the orator and 
that of the banker are at loggerheads, so we are between 
two fires ! You see now why business is slow and 
snaggy, we have so many people to satisfy — clerks, 
chambers, ante-chambers, ministers — ” 

“ Ministers !” said Pillerault, who was determined to 
penetrate his associate. 


164 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


“ Yes, sir, ministers.” 

“ Then the newspapers were right,” said Pillerault. 

“ There’s uncle got into politics ;” said Birotteau ; 
“ Monsieur Claparon is making himself quite delightful.” 

“ The newspapers are satanic jokers, too,” said Clapa- 
ron. “Sir, the newspapers get everything into a snarl, 
they are of use to us sometimes, but they give me many 
sleepless nights ; I should prefer to spend them other- 
wise ; in short I have worn out my eyes with reading 
and ciphering.” 

“Let us return to the ministers,” said Pillerault, who 
hoped for revelations. 

“ The exactions of the ministers are purely govern- 
mental. But what is this that I am eating, ambrosia?” 
said Claparon, interrupting himself. “ Impossible to 
meet such a sauce a^this except in a private house ; out 
of the question at a grub-shop.” 

At this word, the flowers in Madame Ragon’s cap 
skipped like so many lambs. Claparon inferred that the 
expression was a revolting one, and attempted a correc- 
tion. 

“In upper financial circles,” he said, “we call the 
most elegant cafes, such as Very’s, Les Freres Proven- 
§aux, grub-shops. Well, I was going on to say that 
neither these grub-shops, nor the most scientific cooks, 
ever give you really smooth gravy ; some give you clear 
water acidulated with lemon juice; others, instead of 
being cooks, are chemists.” 

The entire dinner passed in attacks on the part of 
Pillerault, who was anxious to sound the financier, but 
who found nothing but a vacuum. He considered him, 
therefore, a dangerous man. 

“ All’s well,” said Roguin in Claparon’s ear. 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


165 


“ Ah ! I hope I can undress to-night,” returned Clapa- 
ron, well nigh suffocated. 

“ Sir,” said Birotteau to him, “ we have been obliged, 
you see, to make a parlor of the dining-room ; the rea- 
son of this is that we get together a few friends, some 
eighteen days hence, as much to celebrate the evacua- 
tion of the territory — ” 

“ Well said, sir ; I am a government man, too. In my 
opinions I belong to the Statu Quo of the great man who 
governs the destinies of the house of Austria ; there’s 
j a glorious blade for you ! Retain, in order to acquire, 
and above all, acquire, in order to retain ! That’s the 
1 substance of my views, which have the honor to be 
those of Prince Metternich.” 

“ — As to commemorate my admission into the order 
of the Legion of Honor,” resumed Cesar. 

“ Oh, yes, I remember. Who was it that told me of it? 
The Kellers or Nucingen ?” 

Roguin, astonished at this display of assurance, made 
a gesture of admiration. 

“ Dear me, no, it was at the Chamber.” 

“ At the Chamber, through M. de la Billardiere ?” 
added Cesar. 

“ Exactly.” 

“A delightful man,” said Cesar to his uncle. 

“ He lets off a quantity of words, words, words,” said 
Pillerault, “ enough to drown you in.” 

“ I perhaps rendered myself worthy of this favor — ” 
Birotteau began. 

“By your labors in the perfumery way? Yes, the 
Bourbons are glad to recompense every species of merit. 
Ah ! let us hold fast to these generous legitimate 
princes, to whom we are to be indebted for unexampled 
prosperity. For, be assured, the Restoration feels 


166 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


that it has a tilt to run against the Empire ; it will win 
triumphs in the midst of peace, triumphs that you shall 
see.” 

“ You will doubtless do us the honor of attending our 
ball, sir,” said Madame Cesar. 

“To pass an evening with you, madame, I would 
abandon the certainty of millions.” 

“Yes, he is rather glib,” said Cesar to his uncle. 

While the glory of perfumery, thus hastening to its 
fall, was about to emit its last rays, a star was feebly 
rising upon the commercial horizon. Little Popinot was ^ 
laying, at this very hour, the foundations of his fortune 
in the Rue des Cinq Diamants. One end of this street, a 
narrow thoroughfare through which loaded wagons can : 
w T ith difficulty pass, runs into the Rue des Lombards, and 
the other into the Rue Aubry-le-Boucher, opposite the 
Rue Quincampoix, that illustrious street of old Paris, so 
many of whose streets the history of France has made ; 
illustrious. In spite of this disadvantage, the consolida- 
tion of the dealers in drugs made the street a favorable 
situation, and in this point of view, Popinot’s choice 
was a happy one. The house, the second from the Rue 
des Lombards, was so dark that in certain weather 
artificial light became necessary at mid-day. The young 
beginner had taken possession, the evening of the day 
before, of the place, which was in the most dirty and 
disgusting state. His predecessor, who dealt in molasses 
and unrefined sugar, had left indelible marks of his 
trade upon the walls, in the yard and in the ware-rooms, j 
Imagine a spacious apartment, with heavy doors, ironed 
and painted bottle-green ; the long iron bars being ? 
plainly visible and ornamented with nails with heads like 
mushrooms ; a trellis-worked wdre grating, increasing in 
size toward the base, like those of the previous genera- 


OF CESAR BIROTTEATJ. 


167 



tion of bakers ; and lastly, with a floor laid in large 
white flags, the greater part of them broken, the walls 
being bare and yellow as those of a station-house. 
Behind, was a back-shop and a kitchen, lighted by the 
yard ; finally, a second store-room in the rear, which 
seemed to have lately served as a stable. An interior 
staircase pierced in the back-shop, led to two chambers 
fronting on the street ; in these Popinot intended to 
place his office, his accountant’s desk, and his books. 

Over the warerooms, were three narrow chambers 
built against the party-wall, and looking upon the court ; 
in these he proposed to lodge. They were in a mould- 
ering state, and had no other view than that of a dark, 
irregular yard, the walls of which, in the dryest weather, 
were so moist that they looked as if they had been 
freshly whitewashed ; the stones were stuck together by 
a black and offensive mud — the deposit of the molasses 
and raw sugar. Only one of these rooms had a fire- 
place, none of them were papered, and all had tiled 
floors. Ever since morning, Gaudissart and Popinot, 
with the aid of a journeyman paper-hanger, whom the 
commercial traveler had unearthed, had been ornament- 
ing this wretched room with paper at fifteen sous a roll, 
the journeyman having first smeared the walls with 
paste. A school-boy’s mattress in a cheap pine wood 
bed, a rickety night-table, an antiquated bureau, a table, 
two-arm chairs, and six armless ones, composed the 
entire furniture. Gaudissart had enlivened the mantle- 
piece by a miserable second-hand looking-glass. Towards 
eight in the evening, seated before the fire-place in which 
glowed a blazing faggot, the two friends were about to 
attack the remains of their breakfast. 

“ Away with that cold mutton! It’s not fit for a 
house-warming,” cried Gaudissart. 


108 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


“ But,” said Popinot, showing his last twenty-franc 
piece, which he kept to pay for the prospectus, “ I — ” 

“ Well, I have,” retorted Gaudissart, putting a forty- 
franc piece upon his closed eye-lid. 

A hammering at the knocker now resounded through 
the court, of course naturally solitary and sonorous on 
Sunday, when the laborers are absent and work-shops 
abandoned. 

“ Behold, ’tis the incorruptible from the Rue de la 
Poterie,” said the illustrious Gaudissart. 

And a waiter, followed by two scullions, entered, 
bringing, upon three wooden trays, a dinner and six 
bottles of carefully selected wine. 

“ How can we eat all that ?” asked Popinot. 

“ The literary gent is coming !” returned Gaudissart. 
“ Finot understands such pomps and vanities. The 
simple youth will come with a prospectus of the most 
preposterous and disheveled sort. The adjective is a 
happy one, isn’t it ? Prospectuses are always thirsty. 
You must water the seed if you want blossoms. Go, 
slaves,” he said to the scullions, striking an attitude ; 
“ here is gold for you.” 

“ Thank you, Monsieur Gaudissart,” replied the wait- 
ers, better pleased with the joke than the money. 

“ My son,” said he to the one who remained to wait 
upon them, “there is a portress, who lurketh in the 
depths of a cave where at times she cooketh, as Nau- 
sicaa of yore delved in soap-suds, as a simple pastime. 
Haste thee to her, implore her candor, interest her, 
young man, in the warmth of these dishes. Tell her 
that she shall be blessed and especially respected, most 
respected by Felix Gaudissart, son of Jean-Frangois 
Gaudissart, grandson of the Gaudissarts, his vile pro- 
letarian ancestry. March, and let all be duly ordered, 




OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


169 




or I expedite thy movements by a C major on thy seat 
of honor.” 

Another knock was heard. 

“ Here is the witty Andoche,” said Gaudissart. 

A large, chubby young man of middle height, who 
from head to foot resembled a hatter’s son, with well 
rounded features where shrewdness was concealed 
beneath an air of affected gravity, suddenly appeared. 
His countenance, sad as that of a man worn out by 
poverty, became radiant at the sight of the table set 
and the significantly capped bottles. At Gaudissart’s 
exclamation, his pale blue eyes sparkled, his large head, 
in which his calmuck face was hallowed out, went from 
right to left, and he saluted Popinot oddly, neither 
servilely nor respectfully, like one who feels out of 
place and will make no concession. He began to feel 
in his heart at this period that he possessed no literary 
talent ; his aim was to remain in literature as a specula- 
tor, by getting upon the shoulders of men of ability, 
by doing literary jobs, rather than making books that 
would not pay. At this moment, after having exhausted 
the humility of attempts and the humiliations of trials, 
he was going, like people of high financial scope, to turn 
round and become impertinent by rule. But he needed 
capital to begin with, and Gaudissart had shown him 
how to obtain it by bringing Popinot’s oil properly 
before the public. 

You will arrange with the newspapers for him, but 
don’t swindle him, or else we shall have a duel ; give 
him his money’s worth.” 

Popinot regarded the author with a troubled air. 
Your true tradesman considers an author with a senti- 
ment of blended terror, compassion and curiosity. 
Although Popinot had been well brought up, the habits 



170 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


of his relatives, their ideas, the stultifying cares of a 
shop and a cash-book, had modified his intelligence by 
bending it to the customs and usages of his trade — a 
phenomenon which you may observe by remarking the 
metamorphoses undergone in ten years by a hundred 
fellow-students, who came out of college or boarding- 
school almost alike. Andoche accepted this alarm as a 
proof of his profound admiration. 

“ Suppose we rush the prospectus through before din- 
ner, we can then drink at our ease,” said Gaudissart. 
“ A man reads badly after dinner. The tongue is too 
busy digesting.” 

“ A prospectus, sir,” said Popinot, “ is often a fortune 
in itself.” 

“ And for plebeians like me,” said Andoche, “ fortune 
is often only a prospectus.” 

“ Capital,” said Gaudissart. “ This fellow Andoche is 
as witty as the whole forty.” 

“ As a hundred,” said Popinot, stupefied at the idea. 

The impatient Gaudissart took the manuscript and 
read aloud, and with emphasis, “ Cephalic Oil !” 

“ I would prefer Cesarean Oil,” said Popinot. 

“ Oh, you do not know the country people,” said 
Gaudissart; “ there is a surgical operation that bears 
that name, and they are so stupid that they would sup- 
pose your oil something to facilitate child-bearing ; and 
it would take too much talking to get them from that to 
the hair.” 

“ Without wishing to defend my title,” said the 
author, “I will merely observe that Cephalic Oil 
means oil for the head, and thus expresses all your 
ideas.” 

“ Well !” said Popinot, impatiently. 







OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


171 


The prospectus, as sent by thousands to the trade 
even now, is as follows (. Another piece justificative ) : 


Gold Medal from the Exposition of 1819. 
CEPHALIC OIL. 

Patents for Invention and Improvement. 

No cosmetic can make the hair grow, as no chemical 
preparation dyes it without danger to the seat of reason: 
Science has recently declared the hair to be a dead sub- 
stance, and that no agent can prevent its coming out or 
turning white. To prevent Xerasy and Calvities, it is 
simply necessary to preserve the bulb from which it 
springs from all exterior atmospheric influences, and to 
maintain the head at a proper degree of warmth. The 
Cephalic Oil, based on principles established by the 
Academy of Sciences, produces this important result, 
adhered to by the ancients, the Romans, Greeks, and 
northern nations, which took pride in having fine hair. 
Learned researches have shown that the nobles who 
were formerly distinguished for long hair employed no 
other means ; their method, however, skilfully recov- 
ered by A. Popinot, inventor of the Cephalic Oil, had 
been lost. 

To preserve, instead of endeavoring to provoke an 
impossible or detrimental stimulation on the derm which 
contains the bulb, is the aim of the Cephalic Oil. 
This oil, in fact, which thwarts the exfoliation of the 
pellicules, which exhales a sweet odor, and which, by 
the substances composing it, one of the principal ele- 
ments of which is essence of nuts, prevents all action of 
the exterior air on the head, thus prevents colds, catarrhs, 



172 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


and all painful affections of the encephalon, while leav- 
ing it its internal temperature. In this manner the 
bulb which contains the pulp producing the hair, is 
never affected by cold or heat. The hair, that magnifi- 
cent product which men and women so prize, thus pre- 1 
serves, till old age, if you but use the Cephalic Oil, 
that gloss, that silkiness, that lustre, which renders the 
hair of childhood so charming. 

The method of using it is detailed upon the wrap- 
per accompanying each bottle. 

Method of using the Cephalic Oil. 

It is perfectly useless to anoint the hair ; it is not only 
a ridiculous custom, but a troublesome habit, as cos- | 
metics will leave their traces. It suffices every morning 
to dip a small fine sponge in the oil, to part the hair 
with a comb, and to moisten the hair at the roots, part 
by part, so that the skin receives a slight layer, after 
first cleaning the hair with brush and comb. 

This oil is sold in bottles, bearing the signature of the 
inventor, to prevent all counterfeits. Price three francs. ' 
A. Popinot, Rue des Cinq Diamants, quartier des Lom- 
bards, Paris. Letters must be prepaid. 

Note. — The establishment of A. Popinot keeps also : 
druggists’ oils, such as orange flower oil, lavender oil, 
sweet almond oil, cacao oil, coffee oil, castor oil, etc. 

“ My dear sir,” said the illustrious Gaudissart to 
Finot, “it is perfect. How we plunge at once into 
science ! No twisting, straight to the point ! I compli- 
ment you sincerely. This is truly useful literature.” 

“ Beautiful, indeed,” said Popinot, enthusiastically. 

“ A prospectus, the first word of which kills Macas- 
sar,” said Gaudissart, rising with a magisterial air to 




OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


173 


utter the following words, which he scanned with parli- 
amentary gestures. “ You — can — not — make — the — 
hair — grow ! You — can — not — dye — it — without — dan- 
ger ! There lies the success.# Modern science agrees 
with ancient habits. You are ready for both old and 
young. Suppose you have to deal with an old man. 
‘ Ah, sir,’ you say, ‘ the ancients, the Greeks and 
Romans were right, and were not as dull as some of us 
think.’ Do you meet a young, man? ‘My dear boy,’ 
you exclaim, ‘another discovery due to the progress of 
the age, we are progressing. What may we not expect 
from steam, telegraphs, and so on ! This oil is the 
result of a report by Monsieur Vauquelin !’ Suppose 
we were to print a passage from this report to the Acad- 
emy of Sciences, confirming our assertions ? Bravo ! 
Come, sit down, Finot ! Let us champ the hay and 
gulp the champagne to the success of our estimable 
friend !” 

“ I thought,” said the author, modestly, “ that light 
and playful announcements have had their day ; we 
are entering a scientific period, you need a doctoral air 
and a tone of authority, to impose on the public.” 

“ We will warm up that oil ; my feet itch, and so does 
my tongue. I have the commissions of all the hair 
dressers, not one gives over thirty percent.; we must 
give forty, and I guarantee a hundred thousand bottles 
in six months. I will attack the apothecaries, the gro- 
cers, the hair dressers, and giving them forty per cent, 
off, they will all throw dust in the eyes of their cus- 
tomers.” 

The three young men eat like lions, drank like Swiss, 
and got tipsy on the future success of the oil. 

“ This oil goes to the head,” said Finot, smiling. 

Gaudissart exhausted the different series of puns on 



174 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


the words oil, hair, head, etc. Amid the laughter of 
the three friends, at dessert, in spite of the noisy recip- 
rocal toasts and wishes of good luck, the knocker 
sounded and was heard. * 

“ It is my uncle ! he is the very man to come to see 
me,” cried Popinot. 

“ An uncle ?” said Finot, “ and we haven’t got a glass 
for him !” 

“ My friend, Popinot’s uncle is an examining judge,” 
said Gaudissart to Finot. “ We must not mystify him, 
he saved my life. I tell you, when a man has been in 
such a corner as I was, with the scaffold staring him in 
the face, with its 4 Couic, and good-bye to your hair !’ ” 
said he, imitating the fatal knife by a gesture, “ he is 
apt to remember the virtuous magistrate to whom he is 
indebted for the preservation of the gullet down which 
the champagne floweth ! You could not help remem- 
bering him were you dead drunk. You know not, Finot, 
whether you may not need Monsieur Popinot yourself. 
We must receive him with all the honors.” 

The virtuous examining judge was in fact asking the 
portress for his nephew. Recognizing the voice, Anselme 
went down, candle in hand, to light the way. 

“ Good-evening, gentlemen,” said the magistrate. 

The illustrious Gaudissart bowed low. Finot looked 
at the judge with tipsy eyes, and thought him passably 
thick-witted. 

“There is nothing luxurious here,” said the judge, 
gravely, looking around the room ; “but, my boy, if a 
man wants to rise, he must begin low.” 

“ What a profound man !” said Gaudissart to Finot. 

“An article idea,” said the journalist. 

“Ah ! you there, sir ?” said the judge, recognising.the 
commercial traveler. “ What are you doing here ?” 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


175 


“I’m trying, sir, to contribute my little means to your 
nephew’s fortune. We have just been discussing the 
prospectus of his oil, and in this gentleman you have 
the author of the prospectus, which seems to us one of 
the finest specimens of wig literature.” The Judge 
looked at Finot. “ Monsieur Andoche Finot,” said 
Gaudissart, “one of the most distinguished literary 
young men, who does up high politics and the small 
theatres in the government journals, a minister in train- 
ing for authorship.” 

Finot pulled Gaudissart by the lapel of his coat. 

“That’s well, my boys,” said the Judge, to whom these 
words explained the condition of the table, which 
exhibited remains of a most excusable treat. “ Please to 
dress, nephew,” said the Judge to Popinot, “we must 
go this evening to see Monsieur Birotteau, as I owe him 
a visit. You will sign the articles of partnership, which 
I have carefully examined. As you will have your oil- 
factory on the grounds of the Faubourg du Temple, I 
think he should give you a lease of the buildings. He 
may have assignees. A clear understanding prevents 
a misunderstanding. These walls seem to me to be 
damp, Anselme, you’d better hang mats around your 
bed.” 

“ Excuse me, Judge,” said Gaudissart with the wheed- 
ling of a courtier, “.we pasted up the paper to-day our- 
selves, and — it — is not — dry.” 

“ Economy ; very good,” said the Judge. 

“Hark ye,” whispered Gaudissart to Finot, “my 
friend, Popinot is a virtuous young man, he is going to 
his uncle’s, suppose we go and have a high old time ?” 

The journalist exhibited the lining of his vest pocket. 
Popinot saw the gesture and slily gave the author of 
fhe prospectus twenty francs. The Judge had a coach 


176 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


/ 


/ 


at the end of the street and he took his nephe^ to 
Birotteau’s. Pillerault, M. and Madame Ragon and 
Roguin were playing boston, and Cesarine was embroid- 
ering a neckerchief when Judge Popinot and Anselme 
appeared. Roguin, the partner of Madame Ragon, by 
whom Cesarine sat, remarked her pleased look when 
she saw Anselme, come in, and pointed her out, blushing 
scarlet, to his head clerk. 

“This is a great day for law-papers,” said the per- 
fumer, when the Judge, after the usual greetings, told 
him his errand. 

Cesar, Anselme and the Judge went up-stairs, to the 
perfumer’s temporary room, to discuss the lease and the 
articles of partnership drawn up by the magistrate. 
The lease was made out for eighteen years to make it 
tally with that of the house in the Rue des Cinq Dia- 
mants, a trifle, apparently, but one which subsequently 
served Birotteau’s interests. When Cesar and the Judge 
returned to the entre-sol, the magistrate, astonished at 
the general confusion and the presence of workmen on- 
Sunday at the house of a man as religious as the per- 
fumer, asked the reason, and the perfumer was ready 
with a reply. 

“ Although you are not worldly, sir, you will not 
object to our celebrating the deliverance of the territory. 
That is not all. If I assemble a few friends, it is also 
to commemorate my admission into the order of the 
Legion of Honor.” 

“ Ah !” said the Judge, who was not a member. 

“ Perhaps I deserved this distinguished and royal 
favor by sitting in the consular tribunal and fighting 
for the Bourbons on the steps — ” 

“ Yes,” said the Judge. 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


177 


“ Of St. Roch, the 13th Vendemiaire, where I was 
wounded by Napoleon.” 

“Of course,” said the Judge. “If my wife is not 
indisposed, I will bring her.” 

“Xandrot,” said Roguin as he stepped out of the 
door, to his clerk, “ do not think for a moment of mar- 
rying Cesarine, and in six weeks you will see that the 
counsel was a good one.” 

“ Why ?” said Crottat. 

“ Birotteau, my dear fellow, is going to spend a hun- 
dred thousand francs for his ball, he risks his fortune 
in this affair of the lands in spite of my advice. In six 
weeks these people will be without bread. Marry 
Mademoiselle Lourdois, the house-painter’s daughter, 
she has three hundred thousand francs dowry. I kept 
‘this resource in pickle for you. If you’ll pay me down 
one hundred thousand francs for my office, you can have 
it to-morrow.” 

The magnificence of 'the ball to be given by the per- 
fumer, announced by the newspapers to Europe, was 
quite differently announced in business circles by the 
rumors which the work upon the house prosecuted day 
and night engendered. Here it was said that Cesar had 
hired three houses ; there that he was gildinghis salons ; 
in the next place that the supper would exhibit dishes 
invented for the occasion ; here it was asserted that 
tradespeople were not to be invited, the ball being given 
for government gentry exclusively ; there, the perfumer 
was severely censured for his ambition, and laughed at 
for his political pretensions ; and some even went so far 
as to deny his wound ! The ball gave rise to more than 
one intrigue in the second ward ; there friends gave 
them no trouble, but the demands of mere acquaintances 
were enormous. Favor always produces courtiers. 


178 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 




There were many whose invitations were procured by 
stratagem. The Birotteaus were alarmed at this host 
of friends that they did not know. Their eagerness 
terrified Madame Birotteau, her manner became daily 
more gloomy as the solemnity approached. At first, 
she avowed to Cesar that she did not know what face to 
put on ; she shrank from the numberless details of such 
a festival ; where could she get the silver, glass, refresh- 
ments, dishes, the service necessary ? And who would 
superintend it all ? She begged Birotteau to stand at 
the door and let no one in but those invited. She had 
heard strange stories told of people who came to balls, 
referring to friends whom they could not name. 

When, ten days before the fete, Braschon, Grindot, 
Lourdois and Chaffaroux, the contractor, vowed that 
the apartments would be ready for the famous 17th of 
December, there was a laughable conference in the 
evening after dinner in the modest little room on the 
ground floor, between Cesar, his wife and daughter, 
upon the subject of the list of guests and the sending of 
the invitations, which a printer had that morning brought 
in, printed in beautiful script on rose-colored paper, and 
executed strictly according to the formula in such cases 
made and provided. 

“ Let us leave no one out,” said Birotteau. 

“ If we forget anyone,” said Constance, “ he will not 
forget it himself. Madame Derville, who never paid us 
a visit before, arrived last evening with all possible 
splutter.” 

“ She is very pretty,” said Cesarine, “ I liked her.” 

“ Before she was married, though, she was even below 
me,” said Constance, “ she sewed for a living in the 
Rue Montmartre. She has made shirts for your father.” 

“ Well, let me begin the list,” said Birotteau, “ by the 




OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 

biggest folks. Put down the Duke and Duchess de 
Lenoncourt, Cesarine.” 

“Good heavens ! Cesar,” said Constance, “do nofsend 
a single invitation to people whom you know only as 
customers. Are you going to invite the Princess de 
Blamont-Chauvry, still more closely related to your 
late godmother, the marchioness d’Uxelles, than the Duke 
de Lenoncourt ? Would you invite the two Messieurs 
de Vandenesse, M. de Marsay, M. de Ronquerolles, M. 
d’Aiglemont — in a word, your customers ? You are 
crazy, your.grandeur is too much for you.” 

“Yes, but the Count de Fontaine and his family ! 
Remember how he used to come under the name of 
Grand Jacques, with Le Gars, who was the Marquis 
de Montauran, and M. de la Billardiere, who was called 
Le Nantais, to the Queen of Roses, before the great 
affair of the 13th Vendemiaire. What shakings of 
hands there were then ! 4 Courage, Birotteau,’ they 

said, 4 die like us for the good cause !’ We are old fel- 
low-conspirators. ” 

44 Put him down,” said Constance. 44 If M. de la Bil- 
lardiere and his son come, they must have some one to 
talk to.” 

44 Cesarine,” said Birotteau, 44 put down, first, the Pre- 
fect of the Seine ; he will come or stay away, but he 
commands the municipal body. Honor to whom honor 
is due. M. de la Billardiere and his son, mayor. Put 
the number of the guests at the end of each line. My 
colleague, M. Granet, the deputy, and his wife. She is 
very ugly, but no matter, we cannot omit her ! M. 
Curel, the goldsmith, Colonel in the National Guard, 
his wife and two daughters. These are what I call the 
authorities. Now for the big bugs. The Count and 


180 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


Countess de Fontaine, and their daughter, M’lle Emilie 
de Fontaine/' 

“ A saucy creature that makes me go out on the side- 
walk to take her orders from the carriage in all 
weathers,” said Madame Cesar. “If she comes, it will 
only be to laugh at us.” 

“Then perhaps she will come,” said Cesar, who was 
determined to have a crowd. 

“ Go on, Cesarine. The Count and Countess de 
Granville, my landlord, the most famous noddle in 
the royal court, Derville says. By the way, Monsieur de 
la Billardiere is to have me received as Knight to-mor- 
row, by the Count de Lacepede himself. We must send 
an invitation for the ball and dinner to the Grand 
Chancellor. Put Monsieur Vauquelin down for ball 
and dinner, Cesarine. And, not to forget them, all the 
Chiffrevilles and Protez ; Monsieur and Madame Popi- 
not, Judge of the Tribunal de la Seine, Monsieur and 
Madame Thirion, usher in the king’s cabinet, friends of 
the Ragons and their daughter, who is going, they say, 
to marry one of Monsieur Camusot’s sons by his first 
wife.” 

“ Cesar, do not forget little Horace Bianchon, Popi- 
not’s nephew and Ansel me’s cousin,” said Constance. 

“ Ah, the rogue ! Cesarine has put a four at the end 
of the Popinots. Monsieur and Madame Rabourdin, 
head of the office, in the division of Monsieur de la Bil- 
lardiere. Monsieur Cochin of the same department his 
wife and son, the silent partners of the Matifats, and 
Monsieur, Madame and M’lle Matifat, while we are 
about it.” 

“ The Matifats,” said Cesarine, “ have put in a word 
for Monsieur and Madame Colleville, Monsieur and 
Madame Thuillier, their friends, and the Saillards.” 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


181 


“We shall see,” said Cesar. “ Our broker, Monsieur 
and Madame Jules Desmarets.” 

“ She will be the belle of the ball,” said Cesarine ; “ I 
like her, oh, more than anybody else.” 

“ Derville and his wife.” 

“ Pray put down Monsieur and Madame Coquelin, 
successors to my uncle Pillerault,” said Constance. 
“ They so count on it, that the poor little woman is hav- 
ing a superb ball dress made at my dressmakers ; a 
white satin under skirt, and a tulle over-dress, embroid- 
ered with chicory flowers. She came within an ace of 
getting a gold plated robe, as if she were going to court. 
If we miss them, they are our enemies for life.” 

“ Very well, Cesarine, we must honor trade, we belong 
to it ourselves. Monsieur and Madame Roguin.” 

“ Mamma, Madame Roguin will wear her necklace, 
all her diamonds, and her dress trimmed with mechlin ” 

“ Monsieur and Madame Lebas,” said Cesar. “ Then 
the President of the Tribunal of Commerce, his wife, 
and two daughters. I forgot them among the authori- 
ties. Monsieur and Madame Lourdois, and their daugh- 
ter. Monsieur Claparon, the banker, Monsieur du Tillet, 
Monsieur Grindot, Monsieur Molineux, Pillerault and 
his landlord, Monsieur and Madame Camusot, the rich 
silk mercers, with all their children, the one in the Poly- 
technic School, and the lawyer. He is going to be made 
judge on account of his marriage with Mademoiselle 
Thirion.” 

“ Yes, but out in the country,” said Cesarine. 

“ Monsieur Cardot, Camusot’s father-in-law, and all 
the Cardot children. Wait ! and the Guillaumes, Rue 
du Colombier, Lebas’ father-in-law, two old people who 
will be capital wail flowers ; Alexander Crottat, — 
Celestin — ” 


182 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


“ Papa, don’t forget Monsieur Andoche Finot, and 
Monsieur Gaudissart, two young men who are very use- 
ful to Anselme.” 

“ Gaudissart ? He has been in prison. But, no mat- 
ter, he starts, in a few days, to .travel for our oil. As for 
Andoche Finot, what is he to us ?” 

“ Monsieur Anselme says he will be a great man. He 
is as talented as Voltaire.” 

“ An author ? Atheists, every one of them.” 

“ Put him down, papa. We have very few dancers, so 
far. What is more, he wrote the beautiful prospectus of 
your oil.” 

“ He believes in our oil, does he ?” said Cesar, “ put 
him down, my child. ” 

“ I put my proteges down, too,” said Cesarine. 

“ Put down Monsieur Mitral, my sheriff ; Monsieur 
Haudry, our physician, for form’s sake, he won’t come.” 

“ He will come to play cards,” said Cesarine. 

“ I hope, Cesar, that you will invite the Abbe Loraux 
to the dinner.” 

“ I have already written to him,” said Cesar. 

“ Oh ! don’t forget Lebas’ sister-in-law, Madame 
Augustine de Sommervieux,” said Cesarine. “ Poor little 
woman, she is very unhappy, she is dying of chagrin, 
Lebas told us*” 

“ So much for marrying an artist,” said the perfumer. 
“ There,” he whispered to his daughter, “ look how your 
mother is nodding. Good-evening, Madame Cesar.” 

“ Well !” said Cesar to Cesarine, “ tell me about your 
mother’s dress.” 

“ It will be ready in time. Mamma thinks she is only 
going to have a Canton crape dress like mine ; the dress- 
maker is sure of getting a fit without trying it on.” 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


183 


“ How many people have we in all ?” said Cesar aloud, 
seeing his wife open her eyelids. 

“ One hundred and nine, with the clerks,” said 
Cesarine. 

“ Where shall we put them all ?” said Madame Birot- 
teau. “ Well,” she continued, naively, “ after Sunday 
comes a Monday, that’s one comfort.” 

Nothing can be done with simplicity by persons who 
are ascending from one social stage to another. Neither 
Madame Birotteau, nor Cesar, nor any one, could under, 
any pretext, enter the second story. Cesar had prom- 
ised Raguet, his shop-boy, a new suit the day of the 
ball, if he kept strict watch and was a good sentinel. 
Birotteau, like the Emperor Napoleon at Compiegne, 
when restoring the Chateau for his marriage with Marie 
Louise, would look at nothing while it was unfinished, 
he desired to enjoy a surprise. These two old adversa- 
ries met once again, unwittingly, not on a battle field, 
but on the field of private vanity. Monsieur Grindot 
took Cesar by the hand to show him the rooms, as a 
cicerone exhibits a gallery.. Besides this, every one in 
the house had invented a surprise. Cesarine had 
dutifully employed her little all, a hundred louis, in 
buying books for her father. Monsieur Grindot- had 
one morning told her in confidence that there would be 
two book cases in her father’s chamber, which formed a 
cabinet, the architect’s surprise. Cesarine had placed 
all her girl’s savings on a book-seller’s counter, to offer 
her father the following works : Bossuet, Racine, Vol- 
taire, Jean-Jacques Rousseau, Montesquieu, Moliere, 
Buffon, Fenelon, Delille, Bernardin de Saint Pierre, La 
Fontaine, Corneille, Pascal, La Harpe, in a word, that 
ordinary library found every where, and which her 
father would never read. There must have been a ter- 








184 


THE GKEATNESS AND DECLINE 


rible bill for binding. The celebrated but unpunctual 
binder Thouvenin had promised to deliver the volumes 
on the 16th at noon. Cesarine had told her uncle Pil- 
lerault of her embarrassment, and he had undertaken to 
pay the bill. Cesar’s surprise for his wife was a cherry 
colored velvet dress, trimmed with lace, about which he 
had just been speaking to his daughter, his accomplice. 
Madame Birotteau’s surprise for the new Knight con- 
sisted in a pair of gold buckles and a diamond pin. 
Finally, there was, for all the family, the surprise of the 
new suite of rooms, to be followed within a fortnight 
by the great surprise of the bills therefor. 

Cesar held deep counsel within himself as to what 
invitations were to be made in person, and what carried 
by Raguet in the evening. He took a hack, crammed 
in his wife, a perfect fright with her plumed hat and the 
last shawl given her, the cashmere she had been longing 
for the past fifteen years. The perfumers, in full dress, 
made twenty-two visits in a single morning. 

Cesar had spared his wife the difficulties presented by 
the preparation of the different eatables required by the 
splendor of the entertainment. A diplomatic treaty 
had been made between the illustrious Chevet and 
Birotteau. Chevet furnished a superb set of silver, as 
profitable an investment as a house to let ; he furnished 
the dinner, the wine, the waiters, commanded by a chief 
of suitable appearance, all oi them responsible for their 
several doings. Chevet required the kitchen and the din- 
ing-room on the first floor for his head-quarters ; it 
would take him every moment of the time to serve up a 
dinner for twenty at six o’clock, and a magnificent sup- 
per at one in the morning. Birotteau made an arrange- 
ment with the cafe de Foy for the ices in the form of 
fruit, served upon handsome cups, with plated spoons 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


185 


and silver trays. Tanraae, anotner man of eminence, 
was to furnish the liquids. 

“ Don’t be afraid,” said Cesar to his wife, on seeing 
her a little uneasy the day but one before, “ Chevet, 
Tanrade and the cafe de Fov will occupy the entre-sol, 
Virginie will guard the second story, the shop will be 
closed. We shall have nothing to do but to take uo our 
stand in the first.” 

The 16th, at two o’clock,. Monsieur de la Billardiere 
called to conduct Cesar to the Hotel of the Legion of 
Honor, where he was to be received Knight by the 
Count de Lacepede, with ten other candidates. The 
mayor found the perfumer with tears in his eyes. Con- 
stance had just surprised him with the gold buckles and 
pin. 

“ It is delightful to be so loved,” said he on entering 
the carriage before his assembled clerks, Cesarine and 
Constance. They all gazed at Cesar in his black silk 
small clothes, silk stockings and new blue coat, on which 
was to shine the ribbon, that, according to Molineux, 
had been dipped in blood. When Cesar came back to 
dinner, he was pale with joy ; he looked at his cross in 
every mirror, for in his first intoxication he was not con- 
tent with the ribbon ; he was openly proud of it and had 
no false shame. 

“Wife,” said he, “ the Grand Chancellor is a charm- 
ing man; upon a single word from la Billardiere, he 
accepted my invitation. He is coming with Monsieur 
Vauquelin. Monsieur de Lacepede is a great man, yes, 
as great as Vauquelin ; he has written forty volumes ! 
But though an author he is a peer of France. Do not 
forget to address him thus : Your Lordship, or My Lord 
Count.” 


186 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


“But do eat,” said his wife. “ Your father is no better 
than a child,” she added to Cesarine. 

u How well it looks in your button-hole,” said Cesar- 
ine. “ They will present arms to you ; oh, I will go out 
with you often.” 

“ They will present arms wherever there are sentinels.” 

At that moment Grindot came down with Braschon. 
After dinner, Monsieur, Madame and Mademoiselle, 
might enjoy a look at the apartments, Braschon’s fore- 
man had just finished nailing up some brackets, and 
three men were lighting the tapers. 

“ You want one hundred and twenty tapers,” said 
Braschon. 

“ There’s a bill of two hundred francs at Trudon’s,” 
said Madame Cesar, whose murmur was checked by a 
look from the Chevalier Birotteau. 

“ Your ball will be magnificent, chevalier,” said 
Braschon. 

Birotteau said to himself, “ Flatterers already ! The 
Abbe Loraux warned me not to fall into their snares, 
and to remain humble. I will remember my origin.” 

Cesar did not see what the rich upholsterer of the Rue 
St. Antoine was driving at. Braschon made eleven inef- 
fectual attempts to get an invitation for self, wife, 
daughter, mother-in-law and aunt. Braschon became 
Birotteau’s enemy. To the very sill of the door he kept 
calling him chevalier. The general review began. Cesar, 
his wife and Cesarine went out by the shop door and 
came in from the street. The front door had been made 
over in grand style, with two leaves, divided into equal 
square panels, with a painted cast-iron architectural orna- 
ment in the centre of each. This style of door, since so 
common in Paris, was then just introduced. At the end 
of the vestibule was a staircase divided into two straight 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


187 


flight between which was the socle that had so troubled 
Birotteau, and which formed a kind of box where an 
old woman might easily lodge. This vestibule, floored 
in white and black marble, and painted in imitation of 
marble, was lighted by an antique lamp with four jets. 
The architect had blended richness and simplicity. A 
narrow red carpet relieved the whiteness of the steps of 
the staircase which were made of limestone and polished 
with pumice. The first landing-place opened into the 
entre-sol. The door was like that on the street, but of 
wood-work. - 

“ Charming !” said Cesarine. “ And yet there is 
nothing that forcibly strikes the eye.” 

“ Precisely, Mademoiselle, the charm is produced by 
the exact proportions between the stylobates, the plinths, 
the cornices and the ornaments ; besides, I have put on 
no gilding, the colors are subdued and have no. decided 
tone.” 

“ It is quite a science,” said Cesarine. 

They now all entered a tasty, spacious and simply- 
decorated ante-chamber, the floor of which was inlaid. 
Then game a red and white salon with three windows 
on the street, with elegantly-profiled cornices ; it was 
exquisitely and unostentatiously painted. On a marble 
mantelpiece supported by columns was a tastefully 
selected set of ornaments, with nothing to excite a 
smile, as it was in perfect keeping with the other details. 
That subtle harmony which artists alone can produce, 
by following up a system of decoration even to the 
minutest accessories, and which the ignorant cannot 
comprehend, though they feel it, everywhere prevailed. 
A chandelier with twenty-four wax lights brought out 
the red silk drapery, and the seductive floor almost pro- 


188 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


voked Cesarine to dance. A green and white boudoir 
led into Cesar’s cabinet. 

“ I have put a bed here,” said Grindot, as he opened 
the doors of an alcove skilfully concealed between the 
two book-cases. “ You or Madame may be sick and 
then each has a room.” 

“ But these book-cases full of bound books ! Oh ! 
wife, wife,” said Cesar. 

“ No, that is Cesarine’s surprise.” 

“ Pardon a father’s emotion,” said he to the architect, 
as he embraced his daughter. 

“ Never mind, my dear sir,” said Grindot, “ you are 
in your own house, you know.” 

In this cabinet brown predominated, relieved by 
green, for the most skilful and harmonious transitions 
united all the rooms in one whole. Thus the ground of 
one room was the ornament in the next and vice versa. 
In a panel in Cesar’s cabinet was the engraving of Hero 
and Leander. 

“ This beautiful picture is the gift of Anselme,” said 
Cesarine. 

Anselme too had ventured on a surprise. 

“ The poor boy has done for me what I did for 
Monsieur Vauquelin.” 

Then came Madame Birotteau’s room. There the 
architect had displayed a magnificence sure to please 
the good folks he desired to captivate, for he had kept 
his word in studying this decoration. The chamber 
was hung with blue silk, trimmed with white, the furni- 
ture was white cassimere with a blue figure. The clock 
on the white marble mantel represented Venus leaning 
over a superb block of marble ; a pretty Turkish carpet 
led to Cesarine’s room, which was hung with chintz 
and was very pretty ; here were a piano, a handsome 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


189 





wardrobe with mirror front, a neat little bed with sim- 
ple curtains, and all the little articles that young girls 
like. The dining-room was off Birotteau’s chamber and 
his wife’s and was entered from the stairs. It had been 
treated in the style of Louis Quatorze with a Boulle 
clock, sideboards make of tortoise shell and brass, and 
the walls lined with cloth and gilt nails. The joy of the 
three was indescribable, especially when Madame Birot- 
teau, returning to her room, found on her bed the 
cherry-colored velvet dress trimmed with lace, her hus- 
band’s present, which Virginie had brought in on tiptoe. 

“ This room, sir, will do you great honor,” said Con- 
stance to Grindot. “ We shall have a hundred and odd 
persons here to-morrow night, and you will be in every 
body’s mouth.” 

“ I shall recommend you,” said Cesar. “ You will see 
the grandees of trade and you will be better known in 
one evening than if you had built a hundred houses.” 

Constance, deeply moved, thought no more of the 
expense, nor did she find fault with her husband. 
Anselme Popinot, of whose intelligence she had a high 
opinion, had, when he brought Hero and Leander in the 
morning, assured her of the success of the Cephalic 
Oil, at which he was working like a beaver. The lover 
promised, in spite of the sum that Birotteau’s follies 
would cost, to cover the expense in six months by the 
profit on his share of the oil. After trembling for nine- 
teen years, it was so delightful to give one day to joy, 
that Constance promised her daughter not to mar her 
husband’s happiness by any reflection, and to give her- 
self unreservedly up to pleasure. When Monsieur 
Grindot left them at about eleven o’clock, she fell on 
her husband’s neck and shed tears of happiness, saying: 
“ Ah, Cesar, you make me very wild and very happy.” 



190 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


“If it lasts, you mean,” returned Cesar, smiling. 

“ It will last, I have no fear,” said Madame Birotteau. 

“ So you appreciate me at last,” said the perfumer. 

People great enough to confess their weaknesses will 
acknowledge that a poor orphan girl, who, eighteen 
years before, was head saleswoman at the Sailor Boy in 
the lie St. Louis, and a poor peasant, who came from 
Touraine to Paris, with a staff and hob-nailed shoes, 
might well be flattered and happy, to give such an 
entertainment for so laudable a motive. 

“I would give a hundred francs,” said Cesar, “if 
somebody would call in.” 

“The Abbe Loraux!” said Virginie. 

The Abbe Loraux appeared. This priest was then 
vicar of Saint Sulpice. Never was the power of the soul 
better displayed than in this good man, whose conver- 
sation left a deep impression on the minds of all who 
knew him. His grim face, the very ugliness of which 
was almost enough to repel confidence, had been ren- 
dered sublime by the exercise of the Catholic virtues ; 
an anticipatory light from heaven illumined it. An 
inborn candor relieved his uncouth features, and the 
fire of charity purified the distorted lines by a phenom- 
enon the reverse of that which had animalized and 
degraded everything in Claparon. In his very wrinkles 
disported the graces of the three fair human virtues, 
Hope, Faith, and Charity. His words were mild, slow, 
penetrating. His costume was that of the Parisian 
priests, with a chestnut brown frock. No ambition had 
insinuated itself into his pure heart, which the angels 
would one day present to God in all its baptismal inno- 
cence. It had required the gentle violence of the ; 
daughter of Louis XVI to induce Abbe Loraux to accept , 
a Parisian parish, though one of the poorest. He beheld 







OF CESAR BIROTTEAtL 


191 


all these sumptuosities with a troubled eye, smiled at 
the three enchanted tradesfolk, and shook his whitened 


head 


“ My children, my business is not to attend parties of 
pleasure, but to comfort the afflicted, I come to thank 
Monsieur Cesar, to felicitate you all. I will come here 
only to one party — this dear child’s wedding.” 

A quarter of an hour afterwards the Abbe retired, 
without the perfumer or his wife daring to show him the 
apartments. This grave apparition dashed a few icy 
drops into Cesar’s bubbling joy. They lay down to 
sleep in their luxury, each taking possession of the 
pretty and long-coveted articles. Cesarine undressed 
her mother before a marble top toilet table. Cesar had 
treated himself to some superfluities which he wished to 
use instanter. All slept, rehearsing in advance the mor- 
row’s joys. After going to mass and reading their 
vespers, Cesarine and her mother dressed at four o’clock, 
after giving up the entre-spl to the secular arm of Che- 
vet’s people. Never did dress so become Madame Cesar 
as that cherry-colored velvet robe, with short sleeves 
trimmed with lace ; her beautiful arms, still fresh and 
young, her bust of sparkling white, her neck and well 
rounded shoulders, were heightened in effect by the rich- 
ness of the stuff and the magnificence of the color. 
The simple joy that every woman feels to see herself in 
all her power, gave an indescribable softness to the Greek 
profile of the perfumer’s wife, whose beauty appeared in 
all its cameo fineness. Cesarine, attired in white crape, 
had a wreath of white roses on her head, a rose in her 
girdle ; a scarf modestly covered her shoulders and 
bust ; she set poor Popinot crazy. 

“These people crush us,” said Madame Roguin to her 
husband, as they went through the rooms. 


192 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


¥ 



The notary’s wife was enraged because she was not 
as beautiful as Madame Cesar, for every woman instinc- 
tively knows whether a rival’s beauty is inferior or supe- 
rior to her own. 

“ Bah ! this will not last long, and you will soon 
splash the poor woman as she trudges along the street 
on foot, ruined ! ” whispered Roguin to his wife. 

Vauquelin was perfectly delightful ; he came with 
Monsieur de Lacepede, his colleague in the Institute, 
who went for him in a carriage. On seeing the radiant 
hostess, the two savants fell into an ecstasy of scientific 
compliments. 

“ Madame,” said the chemist, “ you possess a secret 
unknown to science, to remain thus young and beauti- 
ful r 

“You are somewhat at home here,” said Birotteau to 
the academician. “Yes, my Lord Count,” he resumed, 
turning to the Chancellor of the Legion of Honor, “ I 
owe all my fortune to Monsieur Vauquelin. I have the 
honor to present to your Lordship the President of the 
Tribunal of Commerce. This is the Count de Lace- 
pede, peer of France, one of France’s great men ; he 
has written forty volumes,” said he to Joseph Lebas, 
who accompanied the President of the Tribunal. 

The guests were punctual. The dinner was what 
tradesfolk’s dinners usually are, extremely gay, over- 1' 
flowing with good-fellowship, interlarded with coarse 
pleasantries which always excite a laugh. The excel- 
lence of the viands, the superiority of the wines, were 
appreciated. When the company returned to the salon 
to take their coffee, it was half past nine. Carriages 
had already brought several young ladies impatient for 
the dance. An hour later, the salon was full and the 
ball had the air of a rout. Monsieur de Lacepede and 




OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


193 


Monsieur Vauquelin left, to the great despair of Birot- 
teau, who followed them to the staircase, begging them 
to remain, but in vain. He succeeded in keeping Judge 
Popinot and Monsieur de la Billardiere. With the ex- 
ception of three ladies w T ho represented the aristocracy, 
the finances and the administration, Mademoiselle de 
Fontaine, Madame Jules and Madame Rabourdin, whose 
striking beauty, dress and manners stood out amid the 
assembly, the other women, with their heavy, solid 
toilet presented that indescribable dowdiness to the eye 
which gives the bourgeois the common air which is in- 
separable from them, and to which the grace of these 
three ladies offered so cruel a contrast. 

The bourgeoisie of the Rue Saint Denis displayed itself 
in all its majesty, exhibiting and enjoying to the full its 
right to be extremely ridiculous. There was no mistak- 
ing it ; it was impossible not to recognize the class which 
dresses its children in the uniform of Lancers or the 
National Guard, which buys. “ Victoires et Conquetes ” 
and “ Le Soldat Laboureur,” admires the painting of 
“The Poor Man’s Funeral,” makes a holiday of the day 
when it is summoned to mount guard, goes on Sunday 
to a country house of its own, is anxious to appear dis- 
tingue, and aspires to municipal honors ; the class which, 
though always jealous and envious, is nevertheless kind 
and willing to do a service, is attached, sensitive, com- 
passionate ; which subscribes for the children of Gen- 
eral Foy, for the Greeks, in ignorance of their piracies, 
and for the French Colony in Texas at the time when it 
had ceased to exist ; which is the dupe of its own virtues, 
is ridiculed for its foibles by a class far from being its 
equal, as its good qualities come precisely from its ignor- 
ance of the amenities of life ; that virtuous class which 
brings up its ingenuous daughters accustomed to labor, 


194 


THE GEEATNESS AND DECLINE 


girls whose steady habits fall off upon their coming in 
contact with the classes above them, and from among 
whom, though destitute of native wit, master Chrysale 
would have chosen his wife — a class, in short, admirably 
represented by the Matifats, the wholesale druggists of 
the Rue des Lombards, who had furnished the Queen 
of Roses for the last sixty years. 

Madame Matifat, who had sought to give herself an im- 
posing air, danced in a turban and was dressed in a 
heavy cherry-colored gown striped with gold — a toilet 
quite in harmony with her lofty manners, her Roman 
nose, and the splendors of a crimson complexion ; Mon- 
sieur Matifaf, so superb at a review of the National 
Guard, where the beholder could see at fifty paces the 
rotund paunch upon which glittered his watch chain and 
his bunch of charms, was domineered over by this 
Catherine II of the counter. He was stout and short, 
sported an absurdly pompous pair of spectacles, and 
wore his shirt collar very high in his neck ; he was gen- 
erally remarked by the depth of his voice and the rich- 
ness of his vocabulary. He never said “ Corneille,” but 
“the sublime Corneille;” Racine was “ the sweet Ra- 
cine.” Voltaire, “the second in every walk, with more 
wit than genius, but a man of genius, nevertheless !” 
Rousseau, with his suspicious disposition, was devoured 
by pride, and ended by hanging himself. 

He had a heavy way of relating the vulgar anecdotes 
about Piron — who passes for a prodigious creature 
among the bourgeois. Matifat, who had a great fancy 
for actors, had also a slight tendency to indecency. 
Madame Matifat, on seeing him commence a story 
would often interrupt him, exclaiming, “ Take care what 
you say, fatty.” She familiarly called him her fatty. 
A speech of this voluminous queen of drugs caused 




OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


195 


Mademoiselle de Fontaine to lose her aristocratic coun- 
tenance; the haughty young woman could not restrain 
a smile at hearing her say to Matifat, “ Now don’t make 
a rush at the ices, fatty ; it’s bad manners.” 

It is more difficult to explain the difference between 
fashionable society and the bourgeoisie than it would be 
for the bourgeoisie to efface it. These women, ill at 
ease in their clothes, knew that they were dressed in 
their Sunday best, and innocently manifested a delight 
which showed that a ball was a rarity in their busy 
life ; while the 'three ladies, each of whom represented 
a sphere of society, were then precisely as they expected 
to be on the morrow ; they did not appear to have 
dressed on purpose, they did not admire themselves in 
the unusual marvels of their equipment, and felt no 
anxiety about their effect ; when they had given the 
last touch, before the glass, to their ball costume, the 
labor was over ; their faces revealed no exuberance, they 
danced with the grace and freedom which artists 
unknown to us have given to the statues of antiquity. 
The others, marked by the impress of labor, remained 
in awkward attitudes and were altogether too much 
diverted ; their looks were inconsiderately inquisitive, 
their voices were far from preserving that scarcely audi- 
ble murmur which gives to conversation at balls its 
inimitable raciness ; above all, they did not possess that 
impertinent solemnity under which lurks the embryo 
epigram, nor that attitude of unconcern which distin- 
guishes those accustomed to self-possession. Thus 
Madame Rabourdin, Madame Jules, and Mademoiselle 
de Fontaine, who had looked forward with infinite 
delight to this perfumer’s ball, stood out in bold relief 
from the majority of the company, by their exquisite 
grace, by the perfect taste of their dress and by their man- 


196 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


ners, as three leading ladies of the ballet are conspicuous 
above the heavy cavalry of their attendants. They were 
watched with stolid and jealous eyes. Madame Roguin, 
Constance and Cesarine formed, as it were, - a link 
between the mercantile physiognomies and the three 
types of feminine aristocracy. As at every ball, there 
came a moment of excitement when the torrents of light, 
the music, the gaiety of the company and the animation 
of the dance, produced an intoxication in which all these 
distinctions disappeared. The ball was on the point of 
becoming noisy, and Mademoiselle de Fontaine was 
anxious to retire ; but when she sought the arm of the 
venerable Vendean, Birotteau, his wife and daughter, 
hurried to prevent the desertion of the entire aristocracy 
of the assembly. 

“ There is an odor of good taste in these rooms which 
really astonishes me,” said the impertinent girl to the 
perfumer, “and I congratulate you upon it.” 

Birotteau was so thoroughly intoxicated by the felici- 
tations of everybody, that he did not catch her mean- 
ing ; but his wife colored, and could make no reply. 

“You have given a national festivity which does you 
honor,” said Camusot. 

“I have rarely seen so fine a ball,” said M. de la Bi 1- 
lardiere, who could tell an agreeable fib without scruple. 

Birotteau took all these compliments in earnest. 

“ What an enchanting spectacle ! And such a nice 
band! Are you going to give balls often ?” said Madame 
Lebas. 

“ What charming rooms ! And decorated after your 
own designs, I suppose ?” said Madame Desmarets. 

Birotteau ventured to prevaricate in allowing her to 
imagine that the designs were his. 

Cesarine, w T ho knew she would be invited for every 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


197 


quadrille, perceived the delicacy of Anselme’s conduct. 
“ If I heeded my desires only,” he whispered in her ear 
as they rose from the table before the ball, “ I would 
beg you to give me one quadrille ; but my happiness 
would be purchased by too great a sacrifice of our 
mutual self-love.” 

Cesarine, who thought that men who stood straight 
upon their legs were very awkward in their gait, insisted 
upon opening the ball with Popinot. Anselme, encour- 
aged by his aunt, who told him to venture, did venture 
to speak of his love to the charming girl during the 
dance, but with the usual circumlocutions resorted to 
by timid lovers. 

“ My fortune depends on you, Mademoiselle.” 

“ How so ?” 

“There is only one hope that can stimulate me to 
make it.” 

“ Hope, then !” 

“ Do you know the significance of that single word ?” 
asked Popinot. 

“ Hope to make your fortune,” said Cesarine with a 
bewitching smile. 

“ Gaudissart ! Gaudissart !” said Anselme to his 
friend, after the quadrille, squeezing his arm with Her- 
culean strength, “succeed, or I blow my brains out. 
Success is marriage with Cesarine, she said so herself, 
and see how beautiful she is !” 

“Yes, she A well got up,” returned Gaudissart, “and 
rich. We’ll serve her up in oil.” 

The understanding between Mademoiselle Lourdois 
and Alexander Crottat, Roguin’s appointed successor, 
was noticed by Madame Birotteau,who did not abandon, 
without lively regret, the hope of seeing her daughter 
the wife of a Parisian notary. Uncle Pillerault, who had 


198 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


exchanged salutations with little Molineux, had taken 
his seat in an arm-chair near the library ; he looked at 
the players, heard what people said, and from time to 
time went to the door to admire the bouquets of revolv- 
ing flowers formed by the heads of the ladies when 
dancing the windmill. His countenance was that of a 
true philosopher. The men were positively dreadful, 
with the exception of du Tillet, who had already acquired 
the manners of good society ; of the young Billardiere, 
a little fashionable in the bud ; of Jules Desmarets and 
the official characters present, but among all these faces, 
more or less comic, to which the assembly owed its 
character, there was one rendered curious by his attire, 
though otherwise he was as much obliterated and for- 
gotten as a coin uttered during the republic. The 
reader divines that we refer to the tyrant of the Cour 
Batave, decked out in fine linen that had turned yellow 
by keeping, and exhibiting a lace shirt frill (left him in 
somebody’s will) fastened by a bluish cameo pin ; he 
wore short black silk tights which betrayed the size of 
the spindles upon which he had the hardihood to rest 
his weight. Cesar triumphantly pointed out to him the 
four rooms created by the architect on the first story of 
his house. 

“ Very well, it’s your own affair, sir,” said Molineux. 
“ My first story, thus decorated, would bring me more 
than three thousand francs.” 

Birotteau answered with a jest, but he felt as if he had 
been sharply pricked, at the accent with which the little 
old man had uttered this phrase. 

“ My first story will soon come back to me, that man 
is going to ruin !” such was the meaning of the expres- 
sion “ would bring me ” which Molineux had darted at 
Birotteau as if it had been a blow with his talons. 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


199 


L- > 


I: 

i' ■ 


The pale face and murderous eye of the landlord 
struck du Tillet, whose attention had been first attracted 
by a watch chain holding at least a pound of jingling 
charms, and by a greenish-whitish coat, with the collar 
singularly turned up, giving him the aspect of a rattle- 
snake. Thereupon the banker interrogated the usurer, 
in order to learn what made him so merry. 

“ Here, sir,” said Molineux, putting one foot in the 
boudoir, “ I stand upon the property of the Count de 
Grandville ; but here,” he added, indicating his other 
foot, “I am upon mine; for I am the owner of this 
house.” 

Molineux was so delightfully communicative to any 
one who would listen to him, that, enchanted by the 
attention which du Tillet lent to his discourse, he let 
himself out, he gave an account of his habits, of the inso- 
lence of Gendrin, and his arrangement with the per- 
fumer, without which the ball would not have taken 
place. 

“Ah, Monsieur Cesar has submitted to your condi- 
tions,” said du Tillet, “ nothing is more contrary to his 
custom.” 

“ Oh, I demanded it, I am so kind to my tenants !” 

“If Birotteau fails,” thought du Tillet, “this little 
wretch will make an excellent syndic. His punctilious- 
ness is invaluable ; when he is alone at home, I dare say 
he amuses himself by killing flies, like Domitian.” 

Du Tillet went and sat down at the gaming table, 
where Claparon already was, according to his order ; he 
had thought that with blazing candelabra standing sen- 
try over him, his pretension to the character of a banker 
would run little danger of exciting remark. Their 
faces, when thus opposite to each other, were so com- 
pletely those of two strangers, that the most suspicious 


200 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


looker-on would have discovered nothing to betray their 
understanding. Gaudissart, who knew Claparon’s cir- 
cumstances, nevertheless dared not accost him, on receiv- 
ing from that worthy commercial gentleman the cold 
and distant look of a parvenu who refuses the saluta- 
tion of a former companion. 

The ball, like a blazing rocket, died out and came 
to an end at five o’clock in the morning. At that time, 
but fortv carriages remained of the one hundred and 
odd which had filled the Rue St. Honore. The company 
were dancing a country dance — dethroned in after years 
by the German cotillion and the English gallop. Du 
Tillet, Roguin, Cardot Junior, the Count de Grandville, 
and Jules Desmarets were at the gambling table. Du 
Tibet had won three thousand francs. The first rays 
of dawn appeared and paled the light of the candles ; 
the players rose and witnessed the closing dance. In 
the houses of the bourgeois, the transports of the break- 
ing up rarely pass without the enactment of a few 
extravagances. The important characters are gone ; 
the intoxication of the motion, the communicative 
warmth of the atmosphere, the spirit lurking in the most 
apparently innocent beverages, have by this time soft- 
ened even the old ladies’ stififest joints, and they com- 
plaisantly take part in the dance, and yield to the folly 
of the moment ; the men perspire, their hair comes out of 
curl and hangs down limp over their faces, giving them 
a grotesque and laughter-provoking aspect ; the young 
women become giddy and the wreaths upon their heads 
begin to rain flowers on the floor. The Momus of the 
bourgeois appears and mirth follows in his train ! A 
burst of laughter welcomes him and everybody gives 
himself up to tomfoolery, knowing that on the morrow 
labor will reclaim their service. Matifat danced with a 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


201 


woman’s bonnet on his head ; Celestin abandoned him- 
self to buffoonery. A few of the women frantically 
clapped their hands together when required by the figure 
of this interminable dance. 

“ What a good time they are having !” said Birotteau, 
delighted. 

“ I only hope they won’t break anything,” said Con- 
stance to her uncle. 

“ Your ball is the most magnificent I have ever seen, 
and I have seen a great many,” said du Tillet to his 
former master on bidding him good-night. 

In that sublime composition — the eight symphonies 
of Beethoven — there is a fantasia with all the grandeur 
of an epic poem, which is the burden of the finale to the 
symphony in C minor. When, after the dallying prepar- 
ations of the sublime magician so admirably interpreted 
by Habeneck, the leader of the orchestra, a wave of 
that enthusiastic hand rolls up the rich curtain of the 
scene, summoning forth with his baton the dazzling 
theme in which all the powers of music have been con- 
centrated, poets, whose hearts then beat within them, 
will comprehend how Birotteau’s ball produced, in his 
simple life, the effect produced upon them by this teem- 
ing air, to which, perhaps, the symphony in C owes its 
supremacy over its brilliant sisters. A radiant fairy 
darts forward and raises her wand. The listener hears 
the rustling of the purple curtains raised by angels’ 
hands. Gates of gold, sculptured like the portals of the 
Florentine Baptistry, revolve on their diamond hinges. 
The eye is lost in splendid views ; at one glance it 
embraces a colonnade of marvelous palaces, in which 
flit beings of heavenly birth. The incense of glory 
smokes, the altar of happiness flashes, you breathe a 


202 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


perfumed air ! Creatures, whose smile is divine, clothed 
in white tunics edged with blue, pass lightly before your 
eyes, disclosing faces of superhuman beauty and forms 
of infinite grace. The Loves hover around, shedding 
the light of their torches upon the scene. You feel your- 
self beloved ; you are blessed in a happiness which you 
inhale without comprehending how, bathed in the waves 
of that harmony which flows in living streams, and runs, 
for all, with the nectar they have chosen. The sweet 
aspirations of your heart are for one instant realized. 
The enchanter, having convoyed you through the 
heavens, plunges you back, by the profound and myster- 
ious transition of the violincellos, into the morass of 
cold realities, to drag you forth once more, when you 
thirst anew for his divine melodies, and when your soul 
cries out, Again ! The psychologic analysis of the cul- 
minating point of this glorious finale will answer for 
that of the emotions showered on Cesar and Con- 
stance by this wondrous festivity. Collinet, Birot- 
teau’s chief musician, had performed the finale of their 
commercial symphony upon his squeaking three-holed 
fife. 

Weary, but blest, the three Birotteaus fell asleep, by 
day-light, to the dying murmurs of this ball, which, in 
buildings, repairs, furniture, refreshments, dress, and the 
expenses of the library which were refunded to Cesarine, 
cost, though Cesar was far from suspecting it, hard upon 
sixty thousand francs. Such was the issue of the fatal 
red ribbon fastened by a king to a perfumer’s button- 
hole. Should Cesar Birotteau meet with misfortune, 
this absurd expenditure was enough to bring him before 
the Correctional Police. A tradesman, who goes to 
expenses considered inordinate in his position, may be 


OF CESAE BIEOTTEAU. 


203 



found guilty of simple bankruptcy, as distinguished 
from fraudulent bankruptcy. It is perhaps worse to go 
before a petty tribunal charged with folly and indiscre- 
tion, than to appear at the bar of the Court of Assizes 
for an immense imposture. In the eyes of certain people, 
it is better to be criminal than weak. 





THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


OF 

CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


CHAPTER II. 

CESAR STRUGGLING WITH MISFORTUNE. 

One week after the ball — that last flicker of the expir- 
ing fire of an eighteen years prosperity — Cesar was 
looking through his shop window at the passers-by, and 
thinking of the extension of his business which he 
found alarmingly heavy. Until then everything had 
been plain and straightforward in his life ; he either 
manufactured and sold, or he bought to sell again. But 
now, the affair of the lots, his interest in the house of A. 
Popinot & Co., the repayment of the one hundred and 
sixty thousand francs he had thrown into the market, 
and which would require either a traffic in notes that 
would displease his wife, or the most unheard-of suc- 
cess at Popinot's — all these things agitated the poor 
man by the multiplicity of the ideas they suggested, 
and he felt that he had more threads in his hand than 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


205 














he could conveniently manage. And how would 
Anselme guide his bark ? Birotteau treated Popinot as 
a professor of rhetoric treats a pupil : he distrusted his 
capacity, and regretted that he could not control his 
movements. The slight kick which he had dealt him at 
Vauquelin’s to reduce him to silence, sufficiently attests 
the apprehension with which the young tradesman 
inspired the perfumer. Birotteau took good care not 
to be discovered by his wife, his daughter, or his clerk ; 
but he was in reality like a boatman of the Seine, on 
whom a cabinet minister had conferred the command of 
a frigate. 

These thoughts induced a foggy state of mind which 
rendered meditation difficult ; and Cesar remained stand- 
ing, endeavoring to disentangle his ideas. At this 
moment a figure appeared in the street — one for which 
he felt a violent antipathy, that of his second landlord, 
little Molineux. 

Every one has dreamed that eventful dream which 
seems to represent an entire life-time, and in which is 
constantly coming and going a fantastic being charged 
with diabolical errands — the villain of the play. Moli- 
neux seemed to Birotteau entrusted by fate with an anal- 
ogous part to play in his life. This figure had made 
demoniacal grimaces in the middle of the ball, regarding 
the sumptuous preparations with an eye of hatred. On 
seeing him again, Cesar recalled the impression made 
upon him by the little niggard — one of his favorite words 
— and all the more readily as Molineux gave him a 
new start by thus coming upon him in the midst of his 
reverie. 

“ Sir,” said the little man, with his disgustingly 
anodyne voice, “ we hurried things up so fast that you 
forgot to sign that little agreement of ours.” 


206 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


Birotteau took the lease to repair his forgetfulness. 
The architect entered at this moment, bowed to the per- 
fumer and walked around about him in a diplomatic 
manner. 

“ Sir,” he at last whispered to him, “ you know how 
difficult it is to start in any profession ; you are satisfied 
with what I have done, and would oblige me much by 
paying me the sum agreed on for my services.” 

Birotteau, who had completely drained himself by 
giving his negotiable paper and his ready money to 
Claparon, directed Celestin to make a note of two thous- 
and francs, at three months from date, and to write out 
a receipt. 

“ I am delighted at your having assumed your neigh- 
bor’s unexpired lease,” said Molineux, in a manner at 
once insidious and satirical. “ My porter came to 
inform me this morning that a justice of the peace was 
putting on the seals, owing to Cayron’s having run 
away.” 

“ I only hope I’m not stuck for five thousand francs,” 
thought Birotteau. 

“ He was considered a good business man,” said 
Lourdois, who had just come in to hand his bill to the 
perfumer. 

“ A tradesman is never beyond the reach of a reverse 
till he has retired,” said Molineux, folding his document 
with the most scrupulous precision. 

The architect examined the little old man with that 
pleasure which every artist feels on seeing a human cari- 
cature confirmatory of his opinions upon the bour- 
geois. 

When a man’s head is under an umbrella,” he said, 
“ he is apt to think it protected, if it rains.” 

Molineux looked at the architect, studying his mous- 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


207 



tache and his imperial much more closely than his face, 
and he despised him quite as much as Grindot despised 
him. He remained in order to give him a thrust at 
parting. Molineux had lived so long with his cats, that 
he had caught a portion of the feline character, and it 
was visible both in his eyes and his manner. 

At this moment Ragon and Pillerault entered. 

“ We have spoken of our affair to the judge,” said 
Ragon in Cesar’s ear ; “ his opinion is, that in a specu- 
lation of this kind, we ought to have a receipt from the 
sellers and make the transaction real, in order to be all 
of us indivisible owners.” 

“Ah ! you are in this Madeleine affair, are you ?” said 
Lourdois. “I hear it spoken of ; there’ll be buildings 
to put up, I suppose.” 

The painter, who had come with the intention of 
having an immediate settlement, thought it more to his 
interest not to press the perfumer. 

“ I just handed in my account for the close of the 
year,” he whispered to Cesar. “ I don’t want it at all.” 

“ Why, what’s the matter, Cesar ?” said Pillerault, 
remarking the surprise of his nephew, who was so over- 
come at the sight of the bill, that he could not reply 
either to Ragon or to Lourdois. 

“ Nothing ; I’ve taken five thousand francs in notes 
from my neighbor the umbrella man, and he’s failed. 
If the notes are bad, I’ve been done.” 

“ Well,” cried Ragon, “ I told you long ago that a 
drowning man would catch hold of his father’s leg and 
drag him under too. I have seen so many failures ! A 
man is not exactly a swindler at the outset, but he 
becomes one from necessity.” 

“ That’s true,” said Pillerault. 

'“ If I ever get to the Chamber of Deputies, or have any 



. . 


208 


THE GKEATNESS AND DECLINE 


influence with the government — ” said Birotteau, stahd- 
ing on tip-toe and then falling back upon his heels. 

“ What would you do ?” said Lourdois, “ for you knojy 
a thing or two.” 

Molineux, interested in any and every discussion upon 
the laws, remained in the store ; and as the listening of 
others makes listeners, Ragon and Pillerault, who were 
acquainted with Cesar’s opinion, heard him with as much 
gravity as the three strangers. 

“ I would have,” said the perfumer, “ a tribunal of 
judges appointed for life, with a public prosecutor, and 
competent to act as a criminal court. After an investi- 
gation, in which one of the judges should assume the 
functions now exercised by the agents, the syndics and 
the commissary -judge, the trader or merchant should be 
declared a rehabilitable bankrupt or a bankrupt . If the 
former, he should be required to pay in full ; he would 
be, then, the guardian, merely, of his own and of his 
wife’s property ; for every thing, even his rights, even 
legacies left to him, would belong to his creditors ; he 
should act for their account and under surveillance ; and 
he should continue his business, placing, however, the 
word “ bankrupt,” after his signature, till the last sou 
were paid. If declared a bankrupt, he should be con- 
demned, as formerly, to the pillory in the great hall of 
the Exchange, and should stand there two hours with 
the green cap upon his head. His property, that of his 
wife, his rights and privileges, should be made over to 
his creditors, and he should be banished from the 
kingdom.” 

“ Trade would be decidedly safer,” said Lourdois, 
“ and people would think twice before going into a 
speculation.” 

4 ‘ The law, even as it stands, is not obeyed,” said 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


209 


Cesar, exasperated. “ Out of one hundred tradesmen, 
there are more than fifty who are seventy-five per cent- 
behind-hand in their business, or who sell their goods 
twenty-five per cent, below the current price, thus 
ruining all trade/' 

“ The gentleman is correct,” said Molineux ; “ the law 
allows too great latitude. A man should give up all he 
has, or be infamous.” 

“ Why,” cried Cesar, “ as things are going now, a 
merchant will soon become a patented thief. By simply 
signing his name, he can finger the cash-box of every- 
body in town.” 

“You are rather- severe, Monsieur Birotteau,” said 
Lourdois. 

“ He’s right, though,” put in old Ragon. 

“All who have failed are to be suspected,” said Cesar, 
annoyed beyond measure by this unimportant loss, which 
sounded in his ears as does the first echo of the hunter^ 
halali in those of the stag at bay. 

Here a steward entered with the bill of the house of 
Chevet. Then a pastry cook’s boy from Felix, a waiter 
from the cafe de Foy, and Collinet’s clarionet brought 
in the bills of their respective establishments. 

“ Settling day,” said Ragon, smiling. 

“ Well, it was a fine ball, at any rate,” said Lourdois. 
“ I am busy,” said Cesar to the messengers, who there- 
upon left the bills. 

“ Monsieur Grindot,” said Lourdois, upon seeing the 
architect fold up the note that Birotteau had signed, 
“ be good enough to look over and verify my account, a 
glance will be enough, as all the prices were agreed upon 
by you on behalf of Monsieur Birotteau.” 

Pillerault looked at Lourdois and Grindot. 

“ The prices agreed upon between the architect and 






210 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 



the contractor !” said the uncle in the nephew’s e^r, 
“you are imposed upon.” 

Grindot went out. Molineux followed and accosted 
him with a mysterious manner. 

“ Sir,” said he, “you heard me, but you did not under- 
stand me ; I hope you may have an umbrella.” 

Fear seized upon Grindot. The more illegal profits 
may be, the more a man hankers after them. The 
human heart is made so. The architect had really 
worked with zeal upon the suite of rooms, he had given 
it the best of his knowledge and the greater part of his 
time ; he had labored hard enough for ten thousand 
francs, and considered himself the dupe of his profes- 
sional pride. The contractors had had little trouble in 
winning him over. That irresistible argument, and the 
threat, well understood if not expressed, to do him an 
ill-turn by calumniating him, was still less powerful than 
the observation made by Lourdois upon the Madeleine 
land speculation ; Birotteau did not intend to build a 
single house, his only interest was in the value of the 
lots. Architects and contractors are relatively situated 
like dramatic authors and actors ; they depend the one 
upon the other. Grindot, authorized by Birotteau to 
agree upon the prices, took the part of the artisans 
against the bourgeois. Thus, three of the heaviest con- 
tractors, Lourdois, Chaffaroux, and Thorein the carpen- 
ter, declared him one of those clever fellows that it is a 
pleasure to have dealings with. Grindot foresaw that 
their bills, in which his commissions gave him an inter- 
est, would be paid, like his salary, in notes, and the little 
old man had just suggested a doubt as to their being 
honored. Grindot resolved to be pitiless, after the 
manner of artists, the most unrelenting creditors that a 
bourgeois can fall in with. 





OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


211 





Towards the close of December, Cesar had received 
bills to the amount of sixty thousand francs. Felix, 
the cafe de Foy, Tanrade, and such small creditors as 
should have been paid in cash, had sent three times for 
their money. In trade, these vexatious trifles are more 
injurious than a disaster ; they announce it. Known 
losses are definite, but panic knows no bounds. Birot- 
teau’s till was empty. The perfumer was frightened ; 
such a thing had never happened to him in the course 
of his mercantile life. Like all persons who have never 
been called upon to sustain long struggles with penury, 
and who are weak in consequence, this circumstance, so 
common in the experience of the majority of the small 
dealers of Paris, brought trouble to Cesar’s mind. He 
directed Celestin to collect the sums due from his cus- 
tomers ; but, before putting this order in execution, the 
head-clerk allowed it to be repeated. His clients — 
tradesmen applied this lofty term to their habitual pur- 
chasers, and Cesar used it in spite of his wife, who, at 
last, however, had said, “ Call them what you like, as 
long as they pay ” — his clients were rich people by whom 
loss was impossible, and who paid when they pleased, 
and who were often in Cesar’s debt fifty or sixty thous- 
and francs. The second clerk took the sales-book, and 
began to copy the largest accounts. Cesar was afraid 
of his wife. To conceal from her the dejection in which 
this simoom of calamities had plunged him he resolved 
to go out for a walk. 

“ How d’ye do?” said Grindot, coming in with that 
careless air which artists assume for the purpose of talk- 
ing of matters in which they pretend to have no interest. 
“ I can’t get this paper of yours cashed, though I’ve tried 
high and low, so I shall have to ask you to change it 
for specie. I’m the worst off of the two in the matter, 


212 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


but I don’t know how to talk to usurers, and I don’t 
like to peddle your signature about ; I know enough of 
trade to see that it must degrade it ; so that it is in your 
interest to — ” 

“ Sir,” said Birotteau, quite stupefied, “ not so loud, 
if you please, you surprise me strangely.” 

Lourdois entered. 

Birotteau stopped. The poor man was on the point 
of begging Lourdois to take Grindot’s note, at the same 
time making light of the architect’s request, with the 
good faith of the trader sure of his own solvency ; but 
he saw a cloud upon Lourdois’ brow, and he shuddered 
at his imprudence. An innocent piece of raillery like 
that would have been the death blow to a suspected 
credit. Under such circumstances, a really sound trades- 
man takes back his note and offers it no more. Birot- 
teau felt his head as dizzy as if he had looked over a 
yawning precipice. 

“ My dear Monsieur Birotteau,” said Lourdois, taking 
him to the back of the store, “ my bill has been looked 
over and verified, and I hope you will have the money 
ready for me to-morrow. I’m going to marry my 
daughter to young Crottat, he wants money down, for 
notaries never negotiate, and besides, people have never 
seen my signature.” 

“ Send day after to-morrow,” said Birotteau, loftily, 
who reckoned on the payment of his bills. “ And you, 
too, sir,” said he to the architect. 

“And why not now ?” asked Grindot. 

“I have my workmen in the Faubourg to pay,” said 
Cesar, who had never told an untrnth. 

He took his hat to go out with them. But the mason, 
Thorein, and Chaffaroux met him on the threshold. 

“ Sir,” said Chaffaroux, “ we want money.” 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


213 


“ Bless my soul, I’ve not got the mines of Peru,” 
said Cesar, impatiently, leaving them a hundred paces 
behind him. “ There’s something underneath all this. 
That cursed ball! Everybody thinks me a millionaire. 
Nevertheless, Lourdois’ manner was not natural ; there’s 
something in the wind.” 

He walked along in the Rue St. Honore without pur- 
pose, feeling himself, as it were, resolved into his ele- 
ments, and ran against Alexander at the corner of a 
street, as two rams, or two mathematicians absorbed in 
the solution of a problem, might have encountered and 
engaged each other. 

“Ah, sir,” said the notary that was to be, “one 
question ! Did Roguin hand your four hundred thou- 
sand francs to Monsieur Claparon ?” 

“ The affair was transacted in your presence ; Mon- 
sieur Claparon gave me no receipt ; my paper was to 
be negotiated — Roguin must have given him — my 
two hundred and forty thousand francs in money — it 
was agreed that the deeds of sale should be definitely 
realized — Judge Popinot thinks — the receipt — but 
why do you ask, for mercy sake ?’’ 

“ Why do I ask ? To learn whether your two hundred 
and forty thousand francs are in the hands of Claparon 
or those of Roguin Roguin had been intimate with 
you so long, that I thought he might have had the 
decency to make them over to Claparon, and, in that 
case, you would have escaped, though narrowly. But, 
stupid that I was ! He has made off with them and 
with Claparon’s money, too, which, happily, was only 
one hundred thousand francs. Roguin has fled, taking 
with him the hundred thousand francs which I had paid 
upon the good will of the office, and for which I took no 
receipt ; I gave them as I would give you my purse. 


214 


THE GEEATNESS AND DECLINE 


The owners of your lots have not received a single sou 
upon them, they left the office just now. The loan 
which was alleged to have been negotiated upon your 
part of the land was imaginary ; Roguin had already 
squandered it — a deposite made by your pretended 
lender — as he had your hundred thousand francs, which 
— he had got rid of — long ago. So that your last hun- 
dred thousand are gone ; I remember having drawn 
them at the bank.” 

The pupils of Cesar’s eyes dilated to such an unnat- 
ural extent that he saw nothing but a red blaze. 

“Your hundred thousand francs from the bank, my 
hundred thousand paid towards the office, one hundred 
thousand belonging to Claparon, — there are three hum 
dred thousand francs blown away at a whiff, besides the 
smaller robberies which will of course come to light,” 
resumed the young notary. “ Madame Roguin’s life is 
despaired of, du Tillet watched with her during the 
night. Du Tibet himself only escaped by the skin of 
his teeth. Roguin has been teasing him for a month 
past, to get him into the affair, but fortunately all his 
funds were tied up in a speculation with the house of 
Nucingen. Roguin has written his wife a frightful let- 
ter ; I have just read it. For five years he has been 
fingering his clients’ deposites, and for whom, think 
you ? For a woman, the belle Hollandaise ! He left 
her a fortnight before striking the grand blow. The 
thriftless creature was without a sou ; she had put her 
name to sundry papers, so her furniture was sold. In 
order to escape legal process, she took refuge in a house 
in the Palais Royal, where she was assassinated last 
night by a captain. God has speedily punished her, for 
she was certainly the cause of Roguin’s ruin. There 
are some women who have no respect for an thing ! 


OF CESAR BIROTTEATT. 


215 


Think of swallowing up, in this way, a notary’s privi- 
l e g e , good will and all ! Madame Roguin will have no 
resources beyond her legal share of her husband’s means, 
for all the rascal’s property is encumbered far beyond 
its value. The office is worth three hundred thousand 
francs ; and I, who thought I was doing a smart thing, 
have begun by paying one hundred thousand more for 
it, for I have no receipt, and the creditors will think I 
am his accomplice if I speak of it, and a beginner must 
take care of his reputation ! You’ll barely receive thirty 
per cent. To have to swallow a dose like that, at my 
age ! A man fifty-nine years old spending money on 
women — the vicious old blackguard ! He told me 
three weeks ago not to marry Cesarine, for you would 
soon be without bread to your mouths, the monster !” 

Alexander might have gone on much longer, Birot- 

teau stood there motionless, petrified. Every sentence 

was a blow from a sledge hammer. He heard nothing 

but the din of bells ringing out his knell, as at first he 

had seen nothing but the flames of his own conflagration. 

Alexander Crottat, who thought the worthy perfumer a 

strong and self-reliant man, was alarmed by his pallor and 

his motionless attitude. He did not know that Roguin 

carried off more than Cesar’s fortune. The idea of 

/ 

immediate suicide entered the head of the tradesman, in 
spite of his profound piety. In such a case as this, 
suicide presents itself as a means of escaping a thousand 
deaths, and it seems logical enough to suffer but one of 
them. Alexander gave his arm to Cesar, and tried to 
make him walk, but found it impossible ; his legs gave 
way under him, as if he had been drunk. 

“ Why, how now, my good sir ?” said Crottat. “ Come, 
take courage, it won’t kill a man ! Besides, you’ll 
get forty thousand back, the supposed lender had no 


216 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


such sum, he did not deliver it to you, you can go to 
law for the rescission of the contract.” 

“ My ball, my ribbon, two hundred thousand francs 
in notes in the market, and nothing in hand. The 
Ragons, Pillerault, and my wife, who suspected it !” 

A shower of confused words followed, awakening 
masses of overwhelming thoughts and indescribable 
tortures, like a hail-storm making mince meat of the 
flowers in the parterre of the Queen of Roses, 

“ I wish my head could be cut off,” said Birotteau, at 
last, “ it’s heavy and unwieldy, and isn’t of the slightest 
use.” 

“ Why, my good sir,” exclaimed Alexander, “ you are 
not in peril, are you ?” 

“ Peril ?” 

“ Well, then, take heart and fight it out !” 

“ Fight it out ?” repeated the perfumer. 

“Du Tillet was your clerk once; he’s a high-minded 
fellow, and he’ll assist you.” 

“ Du Tillet ?” 

“ Yes, come along with me.” 

“ By heaven, I don’t want to go home as I am,” said 
Birotteau. “You, who are my friend, if there are such 
things as friends, and you know I was interested in 
you, and you used to dine at my house, in the name of 
my wife, take me to ride in a carriage ! Xandrot, come 
with me !” 

The notary, thus apostrophized, with great difficulty 
crammed the inert piece of machinery called Cesar into 
a carriage. 

“Xandrot,” said the perfumer, in a voice choked by 
his tears — for at this moment his tears began to flow 
and somewhat relaxed the iron bandage which seemed 
to encircle his brain, — “ let us stop at the store, and you 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


217 


shall speak for me to Celestin. Tell him that my life 
and that of my wife are at stake. Let no one speak of 
the disappearance of Roguin upon any pretext whatever. 
Call Cesarine down and warn her not to allow the sub- 
ject to be mentioned to her mother. Tell hef to distrust 
our best friends, Pillerault, the Ragons, everybody.” 

The change of tone in Birotteau’s voice struck Crot- 
tat forcibly, and he saw the importance of these direc- 
tions. The Rue St. Honore led to the house of the 
magistrate whom Crottat wished to consult ; so he 
obeyed these injunctions on the way, and Celestin and 
Cesarine were affrighted to see the perfumer in the back 
of the carriage, pale, voiceless, and apparently senseless. 

“ Oblige me by keeping this matter secret,” he said to 
Crottat. 

“ Ah !” thought Xandrot, “ he’s coming back again ; 

I thought he was gone. ” 

Alexander’s conference with the magistrate lasted 
some time ; the president of the chamber of notaries 
was sent for ; Cesar was carried about like a bundle, 
neither stirring nor uttering a syllable. Towards seven 
in the evening, Crottat took the perfumer home. The 
thought of meeting Constance partially restored Cesar’s 
strength. The young notary charitably went in first 
and told Madame Birotteau that her husband had just 
had a sort of rush of blood to the head. 

“ His ideas are very much confused,” he said, making 
the gesture employed to indicate a disorder of the brain, 
“he ought to be bled or leeched, I think.” 

“ I thought it would be so,” said Constance, who was 
a thousand miles from suspecting a calamity, “he did 
not take his precautionary purge at the beginning of 
winter, and he’s been working for two months like a 
galley-slave, as if he still had his bread to earn.” 


218 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


Cesar was begged by his wife and daughter to go at 
once to bed, and old doctor Haudry, Birotteau’s physi- 
cian, was sent for. Haudry was a physician of the 
school so ridiculed by Moliere, a great practitioner and 
advocate of the time-honored formulas of the apotheca- 
ries, dosing his patients as if he were a regular horse- 
doctor, consulting-physician though he was. He came, 
examined Cesar’s physiognomy, and ordered an immedi- 
ate application of mustard poultices to the soles of his 
feet. He had discovered symptoms of congestion of the 
brain. 

“ What can have caused it ?” asked Constance. 

“ The wet weather,” answered the doctor, after a 
whisper from Cesarine. 

It often becomes the duty of physicians knowingly to 
give utterance to stupidities such as this, in order to 
save the honor or the life of the persons in full health 
who attend upon the patient. The old doctor had seen 
so many things that he took the hint at once. Cesarine 
followed him to the staircase to receive her instructions. 

“ Keep him quiet and don’t talk ; when his head gets ' 
clear, we’ll risk a strengthener. ” 

Madame Cesar passed two days at her husband’s bed- 
side. He seemed to her several times to be out of his 
head ; lying in his wife’s fine blue room, and gazing 
constantly at its draperies, its furniture and other costly 
sumptuosities, he made speeches which to her were 
totally incomprehensible. 

“ He’s mad,” she said to Cesarine, as Cesar sat up in 
bed, making, in a solemn voice, incongruous quotations 
from the Commercial Code. 

“If a tradesman’s expenses are considered exces- 
sive ! — Take those curtains down !” 

After three terrible days, during which Cesar’s reason 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


219 

was in danger, the powerful constitution of theTouraine 
peasant came off victorious ; his head was relieved ; 
Haudry gave him cordials and a nourishing diet, and 
after a cup of coffee administered at the proper moment 
Cesar was on his feet again. Constance,’ who was tired 
out, took her husband’s place. 

“ Poor thing !” said Cesar, when she had fallen 
asleep. 

“ Come, father, courage ! You are so superior a man, 
that you’ll win the day, after all. It won’t be anything. 
Monsieur Anselme will help you.” 

Cesarine uttered these vague words in her sweetest 
voice — words which affection still further sweetens and 
which restore the courage of the most dejected, as the 
songs of a mother lull the restlessness of a child under- 
going the miseries of teething. 

“ Yes, child. I mean to struggle to the last; but not 
a word to any one whatsoever, neither to Popinot who 
loves us so much, nor to your uncle Pillerault. I’ll 
write at once to my brother ; I believe he is prebendary, 
or vicar of a cathedral ; he has no expenses, and must 
have laid up money. If he has put by three thousand 
francs a year, for twenty years, he’ll have one hundred 
thousand francs. In the provinces, priests have good 
credit.” 

Cesarine, in her haste to give her father his desk 
and the materials with which to write, brought him a 
bundle of unused invitations to the ball, printed upon 
rose-colored paper. 

“ Burn them up !” cried the perfumer. “ The devil 
himself must have urged me to give that ball. If I 
succumb, I shall look like a swindler. Not a word, 
Cesarine, not a word. 


220 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


Letter from Cesar Birotteau to his brother Francois. 

“ My dear brother : — 

I am in a commercial crisis of so serious a 
nature, that I beg you to send me all the money at your 
disposal, even if you have to borrow. 

Ever Yours, Cesar. 

P. S. Your niece Cesarine, who is looking over me 
while I write and while my poor wife sleeps, hopes you 
have not forgotten her and sends her love.”. 

This postscript was added at the request of Cesarine 
who carried the letter to Raguet. 

“ Father,” she said on returning, “ Monsieur Lebas 
would like to speak to you.” 

“ Monsieur Lebas !” cried Cesar,. as much alarmed as 
if his misfortunes rendered him criminal ; “ a judge !” 

“ My dear Monsieur Birotteau,” said tlfe fat draper 
upon entering the room, “ we have been too long 
acquainted — for we have both been judges and the first 
time were elected together — for me not to inform you 
that a usurer named Bidault, and familiarly called 
Gigonnet, has in his hands several notes of yours, made 
payable to his order, without guaranty , by the house of 
Claparon. These two words are not only an insult, but 
they are fatal to your credit.” 

“ Monsieur Claparon desires to speak with you,” said 
Celestin, opening the door, “shall I show him up?” 

“We’ll learn the cause of this affront,” said Lebas. 

“Sir,” said the perfumer to Claparon upon his pre- 
senting himself, “ this is Monsieur Lebas, judge in the 
Tribunal of Commerce, and my friend — ” 

“ Ah, you are Monsieur Lebas, are you ?” said Clapa- 
ron, breaking in, “ I am delighted at the opportunity ; 


221 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 

Monsieur Lebas of the tribunal, there are so many Lebas 
that really — ” 

“ He has seen,” resumed Birotteau, interrupting the 
garrulous gentleman, “he has seen the notes I gave you 
and which you said would not circulate, with these 
words upon them — without guaranty.” 

“Well,” said Claparon, “they will not be circulated 

I really, they are in the hands of a man with whom I have 
large transactions, papa Bidault. This is why I put 
“ without guaranty ” upon them. If they had been 
meant for circulation you would have drawn them 
directly to his order. The judge will understand my 
situation. What do these notes represent ? The price 
of a piece of real estate. Paid by whom ? by Birotteau. 
Why do you want me to guarantee Birotteau by my sig- 
nature ? We have to pay, each on our part, our share of 
this price. Now, is it not enough that we are jointly 
and severally liable to the land owners ? For my own 
part I never deviate from the rules of trade. I no more 
think of guaranteeing any one for nothing than I would 
give a receipt for a sum I have not received. Anything 
may happen. Whoever signs, pays. I do not want to 
run the risk of having to pay three times.” 

“Three times !” said Cesar. 

“ Yes, sir,” Claparon continued. “ I have already 
j guaranteed Birotteau to the land holders ; why should I 
guarantee him over again to a banker? We are in a 
difficult position ; Roguin robs me of a hundred thous- 
and francs. Thus, my half of the lands cost me already, 
five instead of four hundred thousand francs. Roguin 
runs off with two hundred and forty thousand francs 
belonging to Birotteau. What would you do in my 
place, Monsieur Lebas? Put yourself in my skin. I 
have not the honor to be known to you, more than I 


222 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


know Monsieur Birotteau. Mark well, now. We have an 
undertaking together ; each has a half. On your side 
you furnish all in cash ; I on my part offer notes. I 
offer them to you ; you undertake, by an excess of wil- 
lingness to oblige, to convert them into money. You 
learn that Claparon, banker, rich, esteemed — I accept 
all the virtues in the world — that the virtuous Claparon 
fails for six millions ; would you, at that very moment, 
sign your name as guarantee for me ? You would be 
mad ! Well, Monsieur Lebas, Birotteau is in the condi- 
tion in which I suppose Claparon. Don’t you see that 
I may have to pay the purchasers as being conjointly 
liable, be compelled to make good Birotteau’s share to 
the amount of his notes, if I guaranteed them, and with- 
out having — ” 

“Make good to whom?” asked the perfumer, inter- 
rupting him. 

“ And without having his half of the lands,” said 
Claperon, without attending to the interruption ; “for I 
should have no preference ; I should then have to buy 
it over again ! Thus I may have to pay three times.” 

“ Make good to whom ?” Birotteau insisted. 

“ Why, to the holder, if I endorsed, and you got into 
difficulty.” 

“ I shall not fail, sir,” said Birotteau. 

“Good,” said Claparon. “ You have been judge, you 
are an able man of business ; you know that a man 
should be 'prepared against all emergencies; therefore, 
do not be astonished if I look out for myself.” 

“Monsieur Claparon is right,” said Joseph Lebas. 

“ I am right,” said Claparon, “ right commercially. 
But this affair is one of real estate. Now, 'what ought 
I to receive ? Money, for money must be given to the 
sellers. Let us pass by the two hundred and forty thous- 



and francs which Monsieur Birotteau will get back, I 
am sure,” said Claparon, looking at Lebas. “ I came to 
ask for the trifle of twenty-five thousand francs,” said 
he, turning to Birotteau. 

“ Twenty-five thousand francs I” exclaimed Birotteau, 
who felt his blood. freeze in his veins. “But, sir, what 
claim have you ?” 

“ Why, my dear sir, we are obliged to realize the 
sales before a notary. Now, with respect to the price, 
we can arrange that amongst ourselves ; but we can 
have no arrangements with the Exchequer ! The Exche- 
quer does not amuse itself with idle words ; it trusts 
a man from his hand to his pocket, and we have to come 
down with dues to the amount of forty-four thousand 
francs this week. I was far from expecting reproaches 
in coming here ; for, thinking that these twenty-five 
thousand francs might inconvenience you, I had to 
announce to you that, by. the greatest good luck, I have 
saved you — ” 

“ What !” said Birotteau, with that cry of distress 
which no man ever misunderstands. 

“ A mere nothing ! The bills on sundries for twenty 
thousand francs which Roguin sent me to negotiate, I 
have put to your credit towards the registration and 
expenses, of which I will send you the account ; the small 
fee for negotiation is to be deducted, and you will owe 
me six or seven thousand francs.” 

“All this seems to me quite right,” said Lebas. “In 
the place of this gentleman, who evidently understands 
business well, I should act just the same towards a 
stranger.” 

“ Monsieur Birotteau will not die of it,” said Clapa- 
“ It takes more than one blow to kill an old wolf ; 






ron. 


224 : 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


I have seen wolves with balls in their heads run like — 
well, like wolves/’ 

“ Who could foresee such a crime as that of Roguin ?” 
said Lebas, as much frightened by Cesar’s silence as by 
this gigantic speculation outside of his legitimate 
business. 

“I was very near giving Monsieur Birotteau a receipt 
for four hundred thousand francs,” said Claparon, “and 
if I had, I should have been done for. I had given 
Roguin a hundred thousand francs the evening before. 
Our mutual confidence saved me. Whether the money 
remained in his office or in my house till the final settle- 
ment of the contracts, seemed a matter of perfect 
indifference.” 

“ It would have been better had each kept his money 
in the bank till the time came for paying,” said Lebas. 

“Roguin was my bank,” said Cesar. “But he, too, is 
concerned in the affair,” he resumed, looking at Claparon. 

“Yes, for a quarter, on parole,” answered Claparon. 
“After the folly of allowing him to run away with my 
money, there’s another still bigger, that of giving him 
more. If he sends back my one hundred thousand 
francs and two hundred thousand others for his own 
share, why, then, we’ll see what will come of it. But 
he will take good care not to send them for an operation 
which requires five years of pot-boiling before yielding 
the first soup. If, as is said, he has only carried off 
three hundred thousand francs, fifteen, thousand francs, 
the interest of it, will be no more than he needs to live 
decently abroad.” 

“ The brigand ! ” 

“ See to what a pass his passions have brought him,” 
said Claparon. “ Where is the old man who can answer 
for his not being overpowered and carried away by his 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


225 


at their houses, and 
Nobody enters a com- 


; “ the law upon fail- 
revision. ” 

me,” said Lebas to 


last fancy? Neither of us, virtuous as are we, knows 
what he may come to. The last love is the fiercest. 
Why did we not distrust a notary who meddled with 
speculation ? Every notary, every broker, every com- 
mission-merchant, who operates, may well be suspected. 
Failure, in their case, is fraudulent bankruptcy, and if 
they stayed in the country the court of assizes would 
claim them, so they prefer a foreign court. I shall not 
need another such lesson. To think, too, that we are 
weak enough not to have these people convicted by 
default, because we have dined 
because they have given us balls, 
plaint ; everybody is wrong.” 

“Very wrong,” said Birotteau 
ures and bankruptcies needs total 

“ If you should have need of 
Birotteau, “ I am at your service.” 

“ He has no need of any one,” said the indefatigable 
talker — du Tillet, who had first supplied the water, hav- 
ing opened the sluices. Claparon was repeating a les- 
son that du Tibet had skilfully beaten into him. “The 
state of his affairs is plain enough ; Roguin’s failure will 
yield fifty per cent, dividend, according to what Crottat 
tells me. Besides this dividend, Monsieur Birotteau 
will recover the forty thousand francs which the imagin- 
ary*' lender never had ; again, he can borrow upon his 
property. Now, we are not to pay the owners their 
two hundred thousand francs till four months from 
now ; between this and then, Birotteau will pay his notes, 
for he could not, in any case, have counted upon what 
Roguin has made off with, to pay them. But even if he 
should be a little pinched, why, with a little shinning, 
he will get safely through.” 

The perfumer took fresh courage as he listened to 



226 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


Claparon’s analysis of his affairs and to the line of con- 
duct, so to speak, which he traced out for him. His 
features recovered their firmness and decision, and he 
formed a high estimate of the abilities of the ex-com- 
mercial traveler. Du Tillet had thought best to pass, 
in Claparon’s eyes, for Roguin’s dupe. So he had sent 
one hundred thousand francs by Claparon to Roguin, 
who straightway gave them back again. Claparon, who 
was really uneasy, of course played his part naturally, 
and said to anybody who would listen that Roguin cost 
him a hundred thousand francs. Du Tillet had not 
considered Claparon unscrupulous enough ; he believed 
he had too much honorable principle and delicacy to 
confide his plans to him in all their bearings ; and he 
knew him to be incapable of finding them out for 
himself. 

“If our first friend is not our first dupe, we shall not 
find a second,” said he to Claparon, on the day when, 
being reproached by his commercial go-betw’een, he 
crushed him like a worn-out instrument. 

Monsieur Lebas and Claparon went away together. 

“ I can extricate myself,” Birotteau thought. “ My 
debts in bills payable amount to two hundred and thirty- 
five thousand francs, to wit ; seventy-five thousand 
francs for my house and a hundred and seventy-five 
thousand francs for the lands. Now, to meet theSe, I 
have Roguin’s dividend, which will perhaps yield a hun- 
dred thousand francs. I can cancel the ioan on my 
lands, in all one hundred and forty thousand. What I 
have to do is to gain a hundred thousand francs by the 
Cephalic Oil, and to reach by accommodation notes or by 
credit with a banker, the moment when I shall have 
repaired the loss, and when the lands have obtained their 
highest value.” 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


227 


If a man in misfortune can once form a romantic 
hope, by a train of reasons more or less correct, with 
which he stuffs a pillow on which to lay his head, he is 
often saved. Many take the confidence imparted by 
illusion for energy. Perhaps hope is the half of cour- 
age, so the Christian religion has made it a virtue. Has 
not hope sustained many of the weak, by giving them 
time to await the accidents of life? 

Resolved to go to his wife’s uncle, and make known 
his situation before seeking help elsewhere, Birotteau 
did not go down the Rue Saint Honore to the Rue des 
Bourdonnais without feeling agonies unknown before, 
and which agitated him so much that he thought his 
health was affected. His bowels were on fire. In fact, 
people whose sense is in their diaphragms, suffer there, 
as people who perceive by the head experience cerebral 
pains. In great crises, the constitution is attacked in 
that part where temperament has placed, in that par- 
ticular individual, the seat of life ; weak people have 
the colic, Napoleon goes to sleep. 

Before mounting to the assault of a confidential com- 
munication, over all the barriers of pride, a man of 
honor must have felt in his heart more than once the 
spur of necessity — that hard rider ! So Birotteau allowed 
himself to be spurred for two days before he would go 
to his uncle ; and his mind was made up at last only in 
consequence of family reasons ; however things might 
turn out, he would have to explain his situation to the 
austere ironmonger. Nevertheless, when he reached the 
door, he felt that utter sinking which every child has 
experienced on entering a dentist’s house ; but this want 
of courage applied to Cesar’s whole lifetime, and not to 
a temporary sorrow. Birotteau went up slowly. He 
found the old man reading the Constitutionnel by his 


228 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


fireside, before the little round table upon which his fru- 
gal breakfast was spread ; a roll, some butter and cheese, 1 
and a cup of coffee. 

“A true philosopher,” said Birotteau, envying his 
uncle’s life. 

“Well,” said Pillerault, taking off his spectacles, “ I 
learned yesterday at the cafe David, of Roguin’s affair 
and the murder of the belle Hollandaise. I hope that 
as you knew we wanted to be positive owners of the 
land, you have been to get a receipt from Claparon.” 

“Alas! uncle, that’s the very point. That’s just 
where the shoe pinches. No.” 

“ Good heavens, you are ruined !” said Pillerault, let- 
ting his newspaper drop ; Birotteau picked it up, though 
it was the Constitutionnel. 

Pillerault was so violently affected by his reflections, 
that his severe medallion-like face became bronzed, like 
metal under the die ; he stood still, looked through the 
window at the opposite wall without seeing it, as he 
listened to Birotteau’s long discourse. He evidently 
heard and was forming an opinion, he weighed th z pros 
and the cons with the inflexibility of a Minos who had 
crossed the commercial Styx when he left his store for 
his little three-pair front. 

“Well, uncle?” said Cesar, who, after having closed 
by begging Pillerault to sell sixty thousand francs worth 
of stock, waited for an answer. 

“ I can’t, my poor nephew, you are too deeply com- 
promised. The Ragons and I must both lose our fifty 
thousand francs. These excellent people sold, by my 
advice, their shares in the Wortschin mines ; I feel myself 
obliged, in case of loss, not to restore the capital, indeed, 
but to aid them, and to aid my neice and Cesarine. 

m 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


229 


You will all of you want bread, perhaps ; you can get 
it here.” 

“ Bread, uncle ?” 

“Yes, bread. Look at things as they are; you can't 
recover yourself. From my income of five thousand 
six hundred francs, I can spare four thousand to divide 
between you and the Ragons. I know Cesarine ; when 
the stroke has fallen, she will labor like one distracted ; 
she will deny herself everything, and you, too, Cesar !” 

“Things are not so desperate, uncle.” 

•“ I don’t see them as you do.” 

“ I will prove the contrary.” 

“ Nothing would please me more.” 

Birotteau left Pillerault without replying. He nad 
come to seek consolation and encouragement, but had 
received a second blow, less violent, indeed, than the 
first, but instead of hitting him on the head, it struck 
him in the heart ; and in the heart was the poor man’s 
whole life. He went back after having descended a few 
steps. 

“Sir,” said he, in a frigid tone, “Constance knows 
nothing of this ; at any rate, keep my secret and beg 
the Ragons not to deprive me, at home, of the tranquil- 
ity I need to wrestle against misfortune.” 

Pillerault made a gesture of assent. . 

“Courage, Cesar,” he added, “I see you are vexed 
with me, but you will do me justice hereafter, when 
you think of your wife and child.” 

Discouraged by the opinion of his uncle, whose pecu- 
liar lucidity he acknowledged, Cesar fell from the whole 
height of his hopes into the miry morass of uncertainty. 
A man whose soul, at a time of great commercial dis- 
tress, has nothing of the temper of that of Pillerault, 
becomes the toy of circumstance ; he follows his own 


230 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


ideas or those of others, as a traveler pursues a will-o’- 
the-wisp. He allows himself to be carried away by the 
whirlwind, instead of lying down and hiding his face as 
it passes, or rising and escaping from it by following its 
course. In the midst of his distress, Birotteau remem- 
bered the suit relative to his loan. He went to the Rue 
Vivienne, to the office of Derville, his attorney, to com- 
mence proceedings as soon as possible, in case the attor- 
ney should see any chance of the loan being annulled. 
The perfumer found Derville by his fireside, wrapped 
up in his warm white dressing-gown, calm and collected, 
as lawyers always are when once they have become 
accustomed to the terrible revelations of their clients. 
Birotteau for the first time noticed this indispensable 
coolness, which so freezes the applicant, however excited, 
wounded, however feverishly agitated by his interests in 
danger, however painfully compromised in his life, his 
honor, his wife and children he may be, as Birotteau 
was, when relating his misfortunes. 

“ If it is proved,” said Derville, after having listened 
to him, “ that the lender no longer had in Roguin’s 
hands the sum that the latter pretends he lent you, then 
there is ground for a rescission, as there was no giving 
and receiving of money ; the lender will have his rem- 
edy in Roguin’s bail-bond, as you will for your hun- 
dred thousand francs. I answer, in that case, for the 
suit, as much as a suit can be answered for, for no cause 
can be won in advance.” 

The opinion of so able a lawyer gave Cesar some 
little courage, and he begged Derville to obtain a deci- 
sion in the coming fortnight. The attorney replied that 
a decision setting aside the loan might perhaps be 
obtained in three months. 


231 








OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


“ In three months !” exclaimed the perfumer, who 
thought he had found a resource. 

“ Even supposing that we get the case put speedily on 
the calendar, we cannot compel our opponent to follow 
our rate of speed ; he will profit by the delays of legal 
procedure; the lawyers are not always present; who 
knows your adversary will not allow himself to be con- 
demned by default? We can’t always get on as we 
should like, my dear sir !” said Derville. 

“We used to go pretty quick at the tribunal of com- 
merce !” 


“Oh,” returned the attorney, “consular judges and 
civil judges are two kinds of judges. You fellows slash 
through your business. At the Court house we have 
forms, and forms are the guardians of the law. How 
would you like a judgment given in hot haste, which 
condemned you to lose your forty thousand francs ? 
Your adversary, who has that sum at stake, will defend 
himself. Delays are judicial chevaux de frise .” 

“ You are right,” said Birotteau, who bade Derville 
good-day, and went out with despair in his soul. 

“ They are all right; money, money !” cried the per- 
fumer, talking to himself in the streets as busy men are 
apt to do in Paris, that turbulent and surging city which 
a modern poet has called a vat. As he entered, the 
clerk who had been carrying the bills about, told him 
that on account of the approach of New Years’ Day 
everybody had torn the receipt off and given it back, 
keeping the bill. 

“ So there is no money anywhere,” said the perfumer, 
aloud in the shop. 

He bit his lips, for all the clerks had raised their heads 
to look at him. 

Thus five days passed ; five days during which Bras- 


232 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


chon, Lourdois, Thorein, Grindot, Chaffaroux, and the 
other unpaid creditors, went through the chameleon- 
like phases that every creditor undergoes until, resign- 
ing the state of peace in which confidence has hitherto 
kept him, he assumes the bloody colors of the Bellona 
of trade. In Paris, the astringent period of distrust is 
as rapid in its approach as the expansive movement of 
trust is slow in taking a start ; once fallen into the restric- 
tive system of commercial fears and precautions, the cred- 
itor soon becomes so scurvily mean that he is even worse 
than the debtor. From winning politeness, Birotteau’s 
creditors rose to the heat of impatience, then to the omi- 
nous effervescence of importunity, to threatening bursts 
of disappointment, to the blue cold of determination, 
and finally to the black insolence of a summons with 
malice prepence. Braschon, the rich upholsterer of the 
Faubourg St. Antoine, who had not been invited to the 
ball, sounded the charge, in his character as a creditor 
wounded in his pride ; he insisted on being paid within 
twenty-four hours ; he demanded a guaranty, not in the 
form of a deposit of furniture, but a mortgage upon 
the lands recorded next after the forty thousand francs. 
In spite of the violence of their exactions, they left Birot- 
teau a few intervals of repose in which to take breath. 

Instead of overcoming these first agonies of his diffi- 
cult position by a vigorous effort of the will, Cesar used 
all his wits to prevent his wife, the only person who 
could advise him, from noticing them. He kept guard 
upon the threshold of his door, and around the shop. 
He had admitted Celestin into the secret of his tempor- 
ary embarassment, and Celestin observed his master 
with an eye as curious as it was astonished ; in his view, 
Cesar was dwindling away, as men accustomed to suc- 
cess always do in time of disaster, their whole strength 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


233 


consisting in the experience which routine gives to 
minds of mediocre capacity. 

Without having the energy and ability necessary to 
defend himself at so many points of simultaneous attack, 
Cesar, nevertheless, had the courage to look his situation 
in the face. He required, for the end of December and 
the fifteenth of January, for his house and for his matur- 
ing notes, his rents and current obligations, the sum of 
sixty thousand francs, half of which were for the end of 
December ; all his resources furnished him but twenty 
thousand, so that he still wanted ten thousand. In this 
there was nothing desperate, he thought, for he did not 
see beyond the present, like an adventurer who lives 
from hand to mouth. Before the rumor of his difficul- 
ties reached the public, he resolved to attempt what 
seemed to him an immense stroke, by applying to the 
famous Frangois Keller, banker, orator and philanthro- 
pist, celebrated for his beneficence and his desire to 
render service to the trade of Paris, with a view to being 
permanent member for the city at the Chamber. The 
banker was a liberal, Birotteau was a royalist ; but the 
perfumer formed an opinion of him according to the 
dictates of his heart, and saw an additional reason for 
his obtaining a credit in this difference of political 
views, In case security should be necessary, he had no 
doubt of Popinot’s eagerness to serve him, and he 
resolved to ask him for notes to the amount of thirty 
thousand francs ; this would aid him to await the gain- 
ing of his law-suit, which was already pledged to the 
most hungry creditors. The confiding perfumer, who 
had been wont to tell his dear Constance, upon his pil- 
low, at night, the least emotions of his life, deriving 
courage from the revelation, and who even sought advice 
from her contradiction, could speak of his situation 






234 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


neither to his first clerk, nor to his uncle, nor to his wife. 
His thoughts thus weighed upon him doubly. But the 
generous martyr preferred to suffer alone rather than 
throw such living fire upon his wife’s soul ; he meant to 
tell her of the danger when it was passed. He perhaps 
recoiled from making the horrible confession. The fear 
with which his wife inspired him gave him courage. 
He went to mass every morning at Saint Roch, and 
made God his confidant. 

“ If I don’t meet a soldier going home, my prayer will 
be heard. It shall be God’s answer,” he said, after hav- 
ing implored Heaven for aid. 

And he was happy in not meeting a soldier. Still his 
heart was overladen, he wanted another heart into 
which to pour his grief. Cesarine, in whom he had con- 
fided at the outset, possessed his entire secret. Mystic 
glances passed between them, looks full of suppressed de- 
spair or hope, prayers breathed with mutual ardor, ques- 
tions and answers in sympathy, vague gleams of intelli- 
gence between soul and soul. With his wife, Birotteau 
was animated and gay. Did Constance ask him a 
question, pshaw ! everything was progressing famously, 
Popinot, whom Cesar never thought of, was succeeding, 
and the oil was selling fast. Claparon’s notes would be 
paid, and there was nothing to fear. This forced gaiety 
was terrible to behold. When his wife was asleep in her 
sumptuous bed, Cesar would remain in a sitting posture 
and fall into a listless contemplation of his misfortunes, 
Cesarine, barefooted and with a shawl over her white 
shoulders, would sometimes come in, in her night-dress. 

“I heard you weeping, papa,” she would say, shed- 
ding tears herself. 

Birotteau sank into such a state of torpor after writ- 
ing the letter in which he asked the great Frangois 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


235 


Keller for an audience, that his daughter felt obliged to 
accompany him about the city. Then for the first time 
he noticed certain enormous red bills in the streets, and 
his eye was arrested by these words : Cephalic Oil. 

While the sun of the Queen of Roses was sinking in 
the west, the house of Popinot was rising brilliant with 
the oriental glow of success. Acting upon the advice of 
Gauaissart and Finot, Anselme had boldly launched his 
oil upon the sea of public favor. Two thousand show 
bills had been placarded at the most conspicuous points 
of Paris, within three days. No one could avoid 
staring “ Cephalic Oil ” in the face, or reading one of 
Finot’s terse paragraphs upon the impossibility of forc- 
ing the hair to grow and the danger of dyeing it, accom- 
panied by an extract from Vauquelin’ spaper read to the 
Academy of Sciences; agenuine warrant of life promised 
to the defunct hair of those who should employ the Oil. 
All the hair-dressers, the wig-makers, the perfumers of 
Paris had ornamented their doors with gilded frames, 
enclosing a handsome prospectus printed upon vellum, 
at the top of which was the picture of Hero and Lean- 
der, reduced, with this motto : “ The ancient people of 
antiquity preserved their hair by means of Cephalic 
Oil.” 

“ Why, he has invented permanent frames and ever- 
lasting circulars !” said Birotteau, who contemplated 
the shop front of the Silver Bell in amazement. 

“ Haven’t you seen,” said his daughter, “a frame that 
Monsieur Anselme came and brought himself to the 
shop, at the same time leaving three hundred bottles 
of oil with Celestin ?” 

“ No,” said he. 

“ Celestin has already sold fifty to casual ana sixty to 
regular customers !” 


236 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


“ Ah !” said Cesar. 

The perfumer, stunned by the thousand bells that' 
poverty rings in the ears of its victims, lived in a state 
of perpetual giddiness. The day before, Popinot had 
waited an hour for him, and went away after a conver- 
sation with Constance and Cesarine, who told him that 
Cesar was absorbed by his great speculation. 

“ Ah ! yes ; the business of the lands.” 

Happily, Popinot, who for a month had not left the 
Rue des Cinq Diamants, sitting up at night and working 
on Sundays in the factory, had seen neither Ragon, nor 
Pillerault, nor his uncle, the judge. The poor fellow 
slept only two hours ! He had but two clerks, and 
at the rate things were going, he would soon require 
four. In trade the occasion is everything. He who 
does not bestride success and hold on by the mane, lets 
his fortune escape. Popinot said to himself that he 
would be cordially received, if, in six months, he could 
say to his aunt and uncle, “ I am saved, my fortune 
is made !” — cordially received by Birotteau, if he could 
bring him thirty or forty thousand francs as his share 
at the end of six months. As he knew nothing of 
Roguin’s flight, of Cesar’s disasters and difficulty, he 
could not make an indiscreet speech to Madame Birot- 
teau. 

Popinot promised Finot five hundred francs for each 
first-rate paper, — and there were ten of them ! — three 
hundred for each second-rate, — and of these also there 
were ten ! — if the Cephalic Oil were noticed three times 
a month. Finot saw three thousand francs for himself 
out of these eight thousand — the first stake he had to 
venture on the great green cloth of speculation ! He 
rushed like a lion at his friends and acquaintances. He 
lived at that time in the newspaper offices ; he glided 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


237 


to the bedsides of all the editors in the morning ; and 
in the evening he walked up and down the lobbies of all 
the theatres. 

“ Remember my oil, my dear boy ; it’s not an affair of 
mine, it’s to oblige a friend, you know ; Gaudissart, a 
capital fellow !” was the first and last sentence of every 
discourse. 

He seized upon the bottom of the closing columns in 
the papers, inserting articles and letting the editors have 
the money for them. As cunning as a supernumerary 
who aspires to bean actor, active as an errand-boy at sixty 
francs a month, he wrote plausible letters, he flattered 
everybody’s self-love, he did the dirty work of the 
editors-in-chief, to get his notices inserted. Money, 
dinners, — his zealous activity turned everything to 
account. With tickets for the theatre he bribed the 
printers who, at midnight, made up the columns, taking, 
for that purpose, any of the items already in type. On 
these occasions Finot would pretend to be in the print- 
ing office to revise an article he had written. Though 
friendly to all, he made the Cephalic Oil triumph over 
Regnauld’s Paste and the Brazilian Compound, and 
over all the inventions which were the first to perceive 
the influence of the newpapers and the piston-like effect 
produced upon the public by the reiteration of an article. 
In this age of innocence, a great many editors were like 
oxen, they did not know their own strength ; they wrote 
about actresses, Florine, Tullia, Mariette, and so forth. 
They lorded it over everything, and got nothing by it. 
Andoche’s ambition lay another way ; he neither wanted 
to write up an actress nor to get a play acted, nor to 
have a comedy read, nor to get an article paid for ; he 
offered money when people wanted it, and proffered a 
breakfast when somebody was hungry ; so that there 


238 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


was not a newspaper which did not mention the Cepha- 
lic Oil, and its agreement with Vauquelin’s analysis, or 
which did not ridicule those who thought that hair 
could be induced to grow, and proclaim the danger of 
dyeing it. 

These articles rejoiced Gaudissart’s heart, who stocked 
himself with newspapers to combat people’s prejudices, 
and made upon the provinces what has been called after 
him, by speculators, a “ charge at full speed.” At this 
period the Paris papers ruled the provinces, which were 
yet without organs, the unfortunates ! So they were 
gravely spelled and studied from the title to the printer’s 
name at the end — a line in which the irony of their per- 
secuted opinions might lie concealed. Gaudissart, sup- 
ported by the press, was brilliantly successful in the 
very first city where he wagged, his tongue. All the 
country shop-keepers wanted frames and circulars with 
the picture of Hero and Leander. Finot attacked 
Macassar Oil with that delightful jest which so amused 
the audiences at the Funambules, where Pierrot took an 
old horse-hair broom, the holes of which were plainly 
visible, poured Macassar Oil upon it, and made the 
broom put forth a perfect forest of tufts. This ironical 
scene excited universal laughter. 

Later in life, Finot cheerfully confessed that without 
these three thousand francs, he should have died of pen- 
ury and suffering. Three thousand francs were a for- 
tune for him. In this campaign, he was the first to 
divine the power of advertising, of which he made so 
extensive and judicious a use. Three months afterwards, 
he became editor-in-chief of a small paper, which he 
finally bought and which was the foundation of his for- 
tune. As the “charge at full speed,” made by the illus- 
trious Gaudissart, the Murat of traveling agents, upon 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


239 


the rural districts and the frontiers, secured a commer- 
cial triumph for the house of A. Popinot, so it triumphed 
in public opinion, thanks to Finot’s hungry assault upon 
the newspapers, which produced the remarkable pub- 
licity that the Brazilian Compound and Regnauld’s Gum 
shared. At the very outset, this taking of public opinion 
by storm resulted in three fortunes, and soon engendered 
an invasion of a thousand ambitious projects descending 
in thick battalions into the arena of newspapers, where 
they called paid advertisements into existence — an 
immense revolution ! At this moment, the house of A. 
Popinot & Co. was emblazoned on every wall and shop 
front. Unable to measure the effects of such publicity, 
Birotteau contented himself with saying to Cesarine : 
“ This little Popinot is walking in my footsteps !” with- 
out comprehending the difference of the times, without 
appreciating the power of the new agents whose rapidity 
and extension embraced the commercial world much 
more rapidly than in former times. Birotteau had not 
set foot inside his factory since his ball ; he knew noth- 
ing of the energy and activity there displayed by Popi- 
not. Anselme had taken all Birotteau’s workmen ; he 
slept there ; he saw Cesarine seated upon every box, 
laid out in every consignment, printed on every 
invoice ; he said : “ She shall be my wife,” as with coat 
off and shirt-sleeves rolled up to the elbows, he vigor- 
ously drove nails into a case if his clerks happened to 
be out. 

The next day, after having studied all night what he 
ought and what he ought not to say to one of the great 
men of the loftier banking interest, Cesar reached the 
Rue de Houssay, and, though not without dreadful palpi- 
tations, approached the house of the liberal banker who 




24:0 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


belonged to the party so justly accused of desiring the 
overthrow of the Bourbons. 

The perfumer, like all the minor tradesmen of Paris, 
knew nothing of the manners and men connected with 
upper financial circles. In Paris, between these circles 
and trade, there are secondary, intermediate establish- 
ments, useful to the bank, in which it finds an extra 
guaranty. Constance and Birotteau, who had never 
exceeded their means, whose till had never been empty, 
and who kept their notes in their pocket-book, had never 
had recourse to these second-rate houses ; they were, 
for a still stronger reason, unknown in high banking 
regions. Perhaps it is a mistake not to found a credit 
even if it is useless ; opinions differ on this point. 
However this may be, Birotteau was very sorry that he 
had never uttered his signature. But, being known as 
a deputy and a political character, he thought his name 
alone a sufficient introduction ; he was ignorant of the 
almost royal concourse which distinguished this banker’s 
audiences. When he was conducted to the salon which 
adjoined the cabinet of a man celebrated on so many 
accounts, Birotteau found himself in the midst of a 
large assemblage, composed of deputies, writers, jour- 
nalists, stock-brokers, heavy tradesmen, business peo- 
ple, engineers, and a number of intimate persons who 
passed through the groups and knocked in a peculiar 
manner at the door of the cabinet, which they entered 
as privileged characters. “ What am I in the midst of 
this machine ?” Birotteau thought, quite stunned by the 
movement of this intellectual forge, where the daily 
bread of the opposition was baked, and where all the 
parts of the great tragic-comedy played by the Left 
were rehearsed. On his right hand he heard people dis- 
cussing the loan for finishing the chief lines of canals 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


241 


proposed by the bureau of Bridges and Roads, and for 
this, millions were required ! On his left, journalists, 
eager to flatter the banker’s pride, were talking over last 
night’s sitting and their master’s unpremeditated speech. 
During two hours waiting, Birotteau saw the political 
banker three times conduct men of distinction three 
paces beyond the door of his own cabinet. Frangois 
Keller went as far as the ante-chamber with the last, 
General Foy. 

“ I am lost,” thought Birotteau with an aching heart. 

When the banker returned to his cabinet, the troop of 
courtiers, friends, and interested persons assailed him 
like dogs courting a pretty bitch. Several bold curs got 
into the sanctuary in spite of him. The conferences 
lasted five minutes, ten minutes, a quarter of an hour. 
Some went away depressed, others put on an appear- 
ance of satisfaction, or assumed airs of importance. 
Time was flying ; Birotteau anxiously watched the 
clock. No one took the least notice of his hidden grief, 
which was sighed out on a gilded chair by the side of 
the fire, at the door of the cabinet wherein lodged the 
universal panacea — credit ! Mournfully Cesar reflected 
how for one moment he had been a king in his own 
house, as this man was a king every day, and he fath- 
omed the depth of the abyss into which he had fallen. 

Bitter thought ! How many tears were driven back 
during the hour he spent there ! How often did Birot- 
teau implore God to make this man favorable ; for 
beneath his thick covering of plausible popularity, Cesar 
thought he discovered an insolence, a passionate, tyran- 
nical spirit, a brutal desire of domination, which was 
hateful to his own gentle soul. At length, when there 
were not more than ten or twelve persons remaining, 
Birotteau resolved that when the outer door of the 


242 THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 

cabinet opened, he would get up and put himself on a 
level with the great orator, by saying to him : “ My 

name is Birotteau !” The grenadier who was the first 
to rush upon the redoubt on the banks of the Moskowa 
displayed no more courage than Birotteau summoned to 
his aid to carry out this manoeuvre. 

“ After all, I am his deputy,” said he, as he rose to 
make known his name. 

The features of Frangois Keller relaxed ; he evidently 
desired to be amiable ; he looked at the perfumer’s red 
ribbon, drew back, opened the door of his cabinet, 
showed him the way, and remained some time talking 
with two persons who shot at him from the stairs with 
the violence of a waterspout. 

“ Decazes wants to speak to you,” said one of the 
two. 

“ It’s about killing off the Marsan pavillion ! The 
king has got his eyes open ; he coming over to our 
side,” exclaimed the other. 

We will go to the Chamber together,” said the 
banker, as he resumed his attitude of the frog imitating 
the ox. 

“ How can he attend to his affairs ?” Birotteau asked 
himself, quite amazed. 

The sun of superior position dazzled the perfumer, as 
a bright light blinds insects that like a sombre day or 
the half darkness of a fine night. On an immense table 
he perceived the budget, the thousand blue-books of the 
Chamber, volumes of the Moniteur opened, consulted, 
and marked, in order to taunt a minister with his 
former words, now forgotten, and to make him recant, 
amidst the applause of an ignorant crowd, incapable of 
understanding that everything is modified according to 
circumstances. On another table, were boxes piled up, 


of o£sar birotteatt. 


243 


bills, prospectuses, the thousand and one projects fur- 
nished a man into whose funds every budding specula- 
tion sought to thrust its finger. The regal luxury of 
this cabinet, full of pictures, of statuettes, of works of 
. art ; the heavily laden chimney-piece, the collection of 
papers relating to foreign or home interests, bound up 
like bales, all this struck Birotteau, made him shrink 
back, increased his terror and chilled his blood. On 
the desk of Frangois Keller lay files of notes, of bills of 
exchange, of commercial circulars. Keller sat down and 
set to work, rapidly signing such letters as did not 
require examination. 

“ Sir, to what am I indebted for the honor of your 
visit ?” he said. 

At these words, pronounced for his hearing alone by 
the voice which often spoke to Europe, whilst his eager 
hand traveled over the papers, the poor perfumer felt 
as if a hot iron had entered his heart. He put on that 
agreeable expression which for ten years the banker had 
seen assumed by those who sought to involve him in an 
affair important to themselves alone, and which at once 
put him on his guard against them. 

So Frangois Keller cast a look upon Cesar which went 
straight through his head — a Napoleonic look. The 
imitation of Napoleon’s look was an absurdity in 
which a few parvenus, who had never been even the 
small copper change of their emperor, at this time 
indulged. Upon Birotteau, a man of the Right, a fanat- 
ical devotee of the existing power, an element of 
monarchical election, this glance fell like the lead stamp 
of the custom-house upon a bale of merchandize. 

“Sir, I do not wish to trespass upon your time, so let 
me be brief. My business is purely commercial, to 
inquire whether your house will furnish me a credit. As 


244 


THE G.REATNESS AND DECLINE 


I was formerly judge in the tribunal of commerce, and 
well known at the bank, you will see at once that if I 
had my portfolio full, I should have nothing to do but 
to apply at the institution of which you are a regent. I 
had the honor of sitting at the tribunal with the baron 
Thibon, head of the discounting board, and he certainly 
would not refuse me. But I have never made use of 
my credit or my signature ; my signature, so to speak, 
is virgin, and you know how difficult a negotiation is 
under such circumstances — ” 

Keller made a movement with his head which Birot- 
teau took for one of impatience. “ The case is this, sir,” 
he resumed. “ I have entered into a speculation in land, 
outside of my business — ” 

Francis Keller, who was still signing and reading, 
without appearing to listen to Cesar, turned his head 
and made a sign of assent which encouraged him. 
Birotteau thought he was getting on famously, and drew 
a long breath. 

“ Go on, I am listening,” said Keller, kindly. 

“ I am half-purchaser of the lands lying around the 
Madeleine.” 

“ Yes, I have heard this immense undertaking of the 
house of Claparon spoken of at Nucingen’s.” 

“ Well,” said the perfumer, “ a credit of one hundred 
thousand francs, secured by my half of the operation or 
by my stock in trade, would be sufficient to carry me 
along to the time when I shall be realizing large profits 
from an invention in my own line of business. Should 
it be necessary, I will further secure you by the notes 
of a new house, that of Popinot & Co., a young house 
which — ” 

Keller seemed to care very little about the house of 
Popinot, and Birotteau saw that he was* on the wrong 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 245 

track ; he stopped, and then, alarmed at the silence, he 
resumed : “ As to the interest, we — ” 

“ Dear me, yes,” said the banker, “ if the affair can be 
arranged, don’t doubt my desire to assist you. Occu- 
pied as I am — for I have the finances of all Europe on 
my shoulders, and the Chamber takes all my time — you 
will not be astonished to learn that I leave a great many 
matters to be investigated by my clerks. Go and see 
my brother Adolphe down-stairs, explain the nature of 
your guaranties to him ; if he approves of the operation, 
return with him to-morrow or the day after to-morrow 
at the hour when I give matters a final examination — 
at five in the morning. We shall be proud and happy 
to have obtained your confidence, for you are one of 
those consistent royalists from whom one may differ in 
politics, but whose esteem is always flattering — ” 

“ Sir,” said the perfumer, elated by this parliamentary 
speech, “ I am as worthy of the honor which you do me 
as of the distinguished and royal favor — I deserved it 
by sitting in the consular tribunal and in fighting — ” 

“ Yes,” returned the banker, “the reputation which 
you enjoy is a passport, Monsieur Birotteau. You can 
hardly propose other than feasible affairs, you may count 
on our co-operation.” 

A lady, Madame Keller, one of the two daughters of 
the Count de Gondreville, opened a door that Birotteau 
had not seen. 

“ My love, I hope to see you before you go to the 
Chamber,” she said. 

“ Two o’clock !” cried the banker ; “ the struggle has 
begun ; excuse me, sir, I have to overthrow the ministry. 
Go and see my brother.” 

He re-conducted the perfumer to the door of the salon, 




246 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


and said to one of his servants : “Take this gentleman 
to Monsieur Adolphe.” 

Crossing a labyrinth of staircases under the guidance 
of a man in livery towards a cabinet less ornamental but 
more useful than that of the head of the firm, the per- 
fumer, mounted on an if , hope’s easiest steed, stroked 
his chin and thought the compliments of the celebrated 
financier of very good omen. He regretted that an 
enemy of the Bourbons was so gracious, so able and so 
fine an orator. 

Full of these illusions, he entered a bare, cold cabinet, 
furnished with two writing-desks and several miserable 
arm-chairs, with very dirty curtains and a thin carpet. 
This cabinet was to the other what a kitchen is to the 
dining-room, a labaratory to the shop. Here banking 
and commercial affairs were ripped open for examination, 
here projects were analyzed, and here the share of the 
firm in all the profits of promising operations was eagerly 
seized upon. Here the bold strokes for which the Kel- 
lers were famous in the upper spheres of finance were 
prepared, by which they often created a monopoly and 
rapidly profited by it. Here the defects of legislation 
were studied, and here what the Exchange calls the 
“glutton’s shares,” were shamelessly agreed upon, — the 
commissions exacted for the slightest service, such as 
giving weight and credit to a project by lending their 
name. Here were planned those schemes which, with a 
treacherous appearance of lawfulness, consist in becom- 
ing silent partners in dubious undertakings, without 
engagement in writing, and, if successful, in killing them 
off in order to get possession of them by demanding the 
capital back at a critical moment — a horrible manoeuvre 
which has ruined stockholders without number. 

The two brothers had their separate parts to play. 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


247 


Up-stairs, Frangois, a brilliant and wary man, conducted' 
himself like a king, distributed his favors and his prom- 
ises, and made himself agreeable to all. With him every- 
thing was easy, he had a lofty style of entering into 
business schemes, he intoxicated young beginners and 
speculators of recent date with the wine of his favor 
and his heady conversation, as he developed and enlarged 
upon their own ideas. Down-stairs, Adolphe excused 
his brother on the score of his political pre-occupations 
and skilfully passed the rake over the table ; this was 
the compromised, the difficult brother, as distinguished 
from Frangois. .Thus, to close a bargain with this per- 
fidious house, a man needed two promises. The gracious 
Yes of the sumptuous boudoir often became a dry No 
in Adolphe’s little office. This suspensory manoeuvre 
gave them an opportunity for reflection, and often served 
to mystify inexperienced competitors. The banker’s 
brother was talking with the famous Palma, the private 
counselor of the house of Keller, who withdrew as the 
perfumer appeared. When Birotteau had explained 
his business, Adolphe, the shrewdest of the two broth- 
ers, a very wolf of speculation, with sharp eyes, thin 
lips, and a rough complexion, bent down his head and 
looked over his spectacles at Birotteau, staring at him 
with what might be called the banker’s stare, which is 
half vulture and half attorney ; it is at once greedy and 
indifferent, clear and obscure, sparkling and sombre. 

“ Be good enough to send me the papers on which the 
affair of the Madeleine is based,” he said ; “there lies our 
guaranty for any account we might open with you ; we 
must examine them before opening such an account and 
discussing our respective shares. If the scheme is a 
good one, we might, in order not to encumber you, take 
a portion of the profits instead of a discount.” 


248 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


“ Well/* said Birotteau to himself as he went home, 
“I see what it will come to. Like the .hunted beaver, 
I must leave a piece of my skin behind me. But it is 
better to be shorn than to die,” 

He w T ent upstairs to his room in high good humor, 
and his spirits, on that day, were genuine. 

“ I am all right,” he said to Cesarine, “ I am to have 
a credit with the Kellers.” 

It was not until the 29th of December that Birotteau 
was able to enter the office of Adolphe Keller again. 
The first time that he presented himself, Adolphe had 
gone to visit an estate six leagues from Paris, which the 
great orator thought of purchasing. The second time, 
both the Kellers were engaged for the morning in calcu- 
lating relative to the taking of a loan which had been 
proposed to the Chambers ; they begged Monsieur 
Birotteau to call again on the following Friday. These 
delays were well nigh fatal to the perfumer. But Fri- 
day came at last. Birotteau found himself in the private 
office, seated on one side of the fire, in the light of the 
window, with Adolphe Keller on the other side. 

“ This is all very well,” said the banker, handing back 
to him the papers, “but what have you paid upon the 
sums stipulated for the lots ?” 

“ One hundred and forty thousand francs.” 

“ In money ?” 

“ In notes.” 

“ Are they paid ?” 

“ They are not yet due.” 

“ But if you have paid too much for the lands, consid- 
ering their present value, where is our security ? It 
would be nothing more than the good opinion the public 
has of you and the consideration you enjoy. Now, 
business does not rest upon sentiment. If you had paid 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


249 


two hundred thousand francs, and if we suppose that 
one hundred thousand francs too much has been given, 
in order to take possession of the land, why then we 
should have a security of one hundred thousand francs 
to answer for one hundred thousand discounted. It 
would result in our being owners of your share, if we 
paid instead of you ; so we come to the question whether 
the speculation is a good one. Now, as to waiting five 
years to double our money, we think it more profitable 
to use it in our ordinary banking business. So many 
things may turn up ! You want to sign notes in order 
to pay other notes coming due. A dangerous operation, 
sir ! You’d better hesitate before you make such a 
jump as that. The thing won’t do.” 

This sentence struck Birotteau as if the executioner 
had placed the branding iron upon his shoulder ; he 
hardly knew what he did. 

“ Come,” said Adolphe, “ my brother feels a lively 
interest in you, and has spoken of you to me. Let us 
look into your affairs,” he added. 

Birotteau now became Molineux, whom he had so 
complacently ridiculed. Cesar, dallied with by the 
banker, who amused himself with unraveling the poor 
man’s tangled thoughts, and who was as skilful in 
interrogating a merchant as was Judge Popinot in mak- 
ing a criminal talk, recounted his various speculations ; 
he introduced the Concentrated Sultana Paste, the Car- 
minative Water, Roguin’s fraud, and his suit relative to 
his imaginary loan, not a sou of which had he ever 
received. Birotteau noticed Keller’s smiling and reflec- 
tive manner, and his shrewd nods of the head, and said 
to himself, “ He’s listening ! I’ve interested him ! I 
shall get my credit !” Adolphe Keller was laughing at 
Birotteau as Birotteau had laughed at Molineux. Car- 


250 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


ried away by the loquacity peculiar to people who allow 
themselves to be intoxicated by misfortune, Cesar exhib- 
ited Birotteau as he was, and gave his own measure in 
proposing the Cephalic Oil and the house of Popinot, his 
last stake, as security for his credit. The simple 
creature, led on by beguiling hope, allowed himself to 
be probed and cross-examined by Keller, who discovered 
in the perfumer a royalist flat on the ev^ of failure. 
Delighted at the idea of seeing a deputy mayor of 
their ward, a man but lately honored with the cross, a 
partizan of the present dynasty, bankrupt, Adolphe told 
Birotteau plainly that he would neither give him a 
credit nor say a word in his favor to his brother Fran- 
cois, the great orator. If Francois were so weak in his 
generosity as to assist people who held opinions con- 
trary to his own, and political enemies, he, Adolphe, 
would oppose, with all his strength, his acting the part 
of a dupe, and would prevent him from aiding a former 
adversary of Napoleon — one who had been wounded at 
Saint Roch. Birotteau, exasperated, tried to say some- 
thing about the avidity of the wealthier bankers, their 
harshness, their false philanthropy ; but he was seized 
by so violent a pain that he could barely stammer forth 
a few phrases upon the institution of the Bank of 
France, to whose coffers the Kellers had access. 

“ But the bank,” said Adolphe Keller, “ will never 
give a discount which a private banker has refused.” 

“ The bank,” returned Birotteau, “ has always seemed 
to me far from fulfilling the purpose for which it was 
intended, when it takes credit to itself, upon presenting 
the account of its profits, for having lost but one or two 
hundred thousand francs by the tradespeople of Paris ; 
it is their natural guardian.” 

Adolphe smiled and rose with the air of a man con- 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


251 


siderably bored. “If the bank,” he said, “were to 
undertake to furnish means to people embarrassed in 
their affairs, in the most dishonest and slippery market 
of the financial world, it would have to shut up before 
a year was out. It has already as much as it can do to 
keep clear of accommodation notes and fictitious paper ; 
what would become of it, if it were obliged to investi- 
gate the affairs of all those who wanted aid ?” 

“Where can I get the ten thousand francs that I need 
for to-morrow, Saturday, the 30th ?” said Birotteau to 
himself as he crossed the court-yard. 

According to custom, payments for “ the end of the 
month ” are made on the 30th when the 31st is a holi- 
day. 

On reaching the door, his eyes bathed in tears, the 
perfumer saw, though through a mist, a fine English 
horse in foam stop short at the gate with one of the 
prettiest gigs behind him that rolled, at that period, upon 
the streets of Paris. He would have been very glad had 
this gig run over him ; he would have met his death by 
accident, and the confusion in his business would have 
been attributed to this event. He did not recognize 
du Tillet, who, gracefully slim and clad in an elegant 
morning attire, tossed the ribbons to his groom, and 
threw a cover over the back of his smoking full-blooded 
horse. 

“ What chance brings you here ?” he said to his for- 
mer employer. 

Du Tillet knew well enough without asking. The 
Kellers had made inquiries respecting Birotteau of Clap- 
aron, who, after having consulted du Tillet, completely 
demolished the perfumer’s long-established reputation. 
Though suddenly checked, the tears of the poor trades- 
man spoke forcibly in his behalf. 



252 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


“You’ve not been asking a service of these Arabs, 
have you?” said du Tillet, “these commercial cut- 
throats, who have so often resorted to infamous tricks, 
such as raising 'the price of indigo after having bought 
it all up, lowering the price of rice so as to force hold- 
ers to sell cheap and thus control the market, these 
atrocious, these faithless, lawless, soulless pirates ? You 
can’t know what they are capable of ! They’ll give you 
credit if you have got a good idea, and will shut you off 
when you are involved in the complications of the 
scheme, and force you to sell out to them at a ruinous 
price. Havre, Bordeaux and Marseilles tell queer sto- 
ries about them. Politics is the cloak with which they 
cover their turpitudes. So I get what I can out of them 
without scruple. Suppose we take a little stroll, my 
dear Birotteau. Joseph, walk my horse up and down, 
he’s too warm. Three thousand francs make quite a 
capital.” And he walked towards the boulevard. “ Now, 
my dear master, for you have been my master, are you 
in need of money ? The wretches asked you for security, 
1 suppose. Come, I, who know you, I will advance 
you money on your bare signature. I have honorably 
made my fortune, but with unheard-of difficulty. I 
went to seek it — this fortune of mine — in Germany ! 
I may now safely tell you that I bought up claims 
against the prince who is now king, at sixty per cent, 
off, and that at that time your being my bondsman was 
a great advantage to me, and I am not ungrateful. If 
you want ten thousand francs, they are at your service.” 

“What, du Tillet,” cried Cesar, “are you in earnest? 
Are you not joking? Well, I am a little embarrassed, 
but it is only temporary.” 

“I know, Roguin’s affair,” replied du Tillet. “I am 
in myself for ten thousand francs that the old rogue 




OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


253 


borrowed of me to get away with. But Madame Roguin 
will return me the amount from such property of her 
own as she may recover. I have dissuaded the poor 
lady from any such folly as paying, from her private 
resources, debts incurred for a courtezan ; it might be 
well enough if she could pay them all, but how can she 
prefer certain creditors to the detriment of others ? 
You are not a Roguin,” added du Tillet, “I know that 
you would rather blow your brains out than wrong me 
of a sou. Here we are in the Rue de la Chaussee 
d’Antin ; come up-stairs to my quarters.” 

The parvenu afforded himself the gratification of tak- 
ing his former employer through his rooms rather than 
conducting him at once to the office, and he led him 
along slowly, that he might see his sumptuous dining- 
room, decorated with pictures he had bought in Ger- 
many, and two parlors furnished with an elegance and 
taste which Cesar had seen only at the Duke de Lenon- 
court’s. The poor man’s eyes were fairly dazzled by the 
gildings, the works of art, the precious vases, the costly 
trifles, and the thousand little details which put to 
the blush the luxuries of Constance’s apartment ; and 
knowing what price his own folly had cost him, he said 
to himself, “ Where can he have got so many millions?” 

He entered a bedroom which seemed, next to that of 
Madame Birotteau, what the palace of a queen of the 
ballet is to the three-pair back of a supernumerary. 
The ceiling, draped with violet-colored satin, was 
relieved by walls hung with white satin. An ermine 
bedside-rug stood out sharply against the purple hues of 
an eastern carpet. The furniture and accessories were 
of new forms and extravagant finish. The perfumer 
stopped before a beautiful clock representing Cupid and 
Psyche, the model of which had been made for a cele- 


254 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


brated banker, du Tillet having obtained the only copy 
existing besides that of his fellow-financier. At last the 
ex-master and the ex-clerk came to an elegant, coquet- 
tish cabinet or boudoir, fit only for an exquisite,, and 
redolent rather of love than of finance. It was Madame 
Roguin, doubtless, who, in return for the care he had 
taken of her fortune, had given him this chiseled gold 
paper-cutter, these sculptured malachite presse-papiers, 
and all the costly knicknacks indicating unbridled lux- 
ury. The carpet, one of the richest products of Bel- 
gium, astonished the eye as much as it surprised the feet, 
by the downy depths of its luxurious nap. Du Tillet 
sat the poor man down by the fireplace — dazzled, 
amazed, confounded. 

“ Suppose you breakfast with me ?” 

He rang the bell. A valet better dressed than Birot- 
teau answered it. 

“ Ask Monsieur ' Legras to come up stairs, and then 
tell Joseph, whom you will find at Keller’s door, to come 
home. Go in to Adolphe Keller’s and say that instead 
of calling for him I will wait for him till ’Change hour. 
Have breakfast served, and right away !” 

These orders stupefied the perfumer. 

“ Here is Du Tillet sending for that formidable 
Adolphe Keller, and whistling to him like a dog, bless 
my soul !” he thought. 

A tiger, hardly as big as your fist, came and unfurled, 
so to speak, a table so small that Birotteau had not 
noticed it, and placed upon it a pate de foie gras, a bot- 
tle of Bordeaux and all those rare delicacies which were 
only seen at Birotteau’s twice a quarter, on grand occa- 
sions. Du Tillet enjoyed the scene. His hatred for the 
only man who possessed the right to despise him was 
basking so hotly in the prospect before him that Birot- 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


255 


teau gave him a sensation as profound as the spectacle 
of a sheep struggling with a tiger would have done. 
A momentary feeling of generosity touched his heart ; 
and he asked himself whether his vengeance was not 
satiated, and he hesitated between the promptings of his 
awakening clemency and those of his slumbering 
detestation. 

“ I can destroy this man as a trader,” he thought ; “ I 
hold the right of life and death over him, over his wife, 
who jilted me, over his daughter whose hand not long 
ago seemed to me a fortune. I have got his money, and 
may as well let the poor fool drift at the end of the rope 
I shall throw him.” 

Honest men are totally deficient in tact ; they have 
no standard in well-doing, because in their view every 
thing is straightforward and ingenuous. Birotteau con- 
summated his misfortunes, unwittingly irritated and 
pierced the heart of the tiger, and rendered him impla- 
cable by one word, and that a word of praise — by a 
virtuous expression, by the very simplicity of his 
uprightness. When the cashier came, du Tillet pointed 
Cesar out to him. 

“ Monsieur Legras, bring me ten thousand francs and 
make out a note for that amount, at ninety days, paya- 
ble to my order, to be signed by this gentleman ; you 
know who he is, Monsieur Cesar Birotteau.” 

Du Tillet served some pdte and poured out a glass of 
wine for the perfumer, who, finding himself saved, gave 
way to numerous convulsive laughs ; he caressed his 
watch-chain, and never once put a mouthful into his 
mouth except when his late clerk said, 4 You are not eat- 
ing !” Birotteau thus revealed the depth of the abyss 
into which the hand of du Tillet had plunged him, from 
which it now released him, and into which it might hurl 


256 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


him back again. When the cashier returned, and Cesar, 
having signed the note, felt the ten bills in his pocket, 
he could no longer contain himself. A moment before, 
his neighborhood and the Bank of France were soon to 
learn that he had stopped payment, and he was to con- 
fess his ruin to his wife ; now, all was set to rights ! 
His joy in his deliverance was equal in intensity to his 



torture in adversity. In spite of him his eyes filled with 
tears. 

“ Why, what’s the matter, my dear master?” said du 
Tillet. “ Would not you do for me to-morrow what I 
I do for you to-day ? It’s as natural as How d'ye do !” 

“Du Tillet,” said Birotteau, emphatically and gravely, 
at the same time rising and taking his late clerk’s hand, 

“ I give you back my esteem.” 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


257 


“Why, did you take it away ?” asked du Tillet, feeling 
that Birotteau had struck home, and that he was hit in 
the very source of his prosperity, and actually blush- 
ing. 

“Oh, I didn’t exactly take it away,” said the per- 
fumer, thunderstruck at his blunder, “but people had 
talked about your connection with Madame Roguin, and 
of course, you know, another man’s wife — ” 

“That’s right, flounder away, my boy,” thought du 
Tillet, and as he thought, h.e returned to his first idea, 
that of destroying the tradesman’s honor, trampling it 
under foot, and rendering altogether contemptible, in 
the Paris market, the upright and honorable citizen 
who had detected him with his hand in the money-bag. 
All the examples of hatred, whether political or private, 
whether between women or between men, spring from 
nothing else than a surprise similar to this. Men do not 
hate for a compromised estate, for a wound or even for 
a blow ; for all these, reparation may be made. But to 
have been caught in the very act of stealing ! The 
duel which follows between the criminal and the witness 
of the crime can end only in the death of the one or the 
other. 

“ Oh, as to Madame Roguin,” said du Tillet, scoffingly, 
“ I should think such a thing would rather be a feather 
in a young man’s cap. I understand, my dear Birotteau, 
you have been told probably that she had lent me 
money. Now, on the contrary, I am reestablishing her 
fortune, which was singularly involved in her husband’s 
affairs. The source of my wealth is pure, as I told you 
just now. I began with nothing, you know. Young 
men are often in the most frightful misery. They can 
slide down very gently plump into the lap of penury. 
But suppose a man has made forced loans, like the 


258 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


republic, he can return them, and then he is more hon- 
est than France.” 

“ That’s true,” said Birotteau. “ My boy, God — But 
is it not Voltaire who says : 

4 He made of repentance the virtue of man.’ ” 

“ Provided,” replied du Tillet, probed again to the 
quick by this quotation, “ provided he does not basely 
and shamefully run off with his neighbor’s money, as, 
for instance, if you were to fail within three months, 
and my ten thousand francs were swamped.” 

“ I fail !” said Birotteau, who had swallowed three 
glasses of wine and who was intoxicated with joy. “ You 
know my opinions about failure ! Failure is the death 
of a tradesman ; I should die !” 

“Here’s to your health, then,” said du Tibet. 

“ To your posterity,” returned the perfumer. “ Why 
do you not supply your toilet stand from my shop ?” 

“ I am willing to confess,” replied du Tibet, “ I am 
afraid of Madame Cesar ; I can’t get over the impres- 
ion she made upon me, and if you had not been my 
employer, upon my word, I don’t know but — ” 

“ Web, you are not the first to acknowledge her 
beauty, and a great many would have been glad to have 
her, but she loves me, you see ! Now, look here, du 
Tibet, my good fellow, don’t do things half way.” 

“What do you mean ?” 

Birotteau explained the affair of the lots to du Tibet, 
who opened his eyes wide and complimented the per- 
fumer upon his penetration and his foresight, at the 
same time highly praising the operation. 

“ I am delighted that you approve of it, du Tibet, for 
you are considered one of the knowing ones in the 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


259 


banking line. My good fellow, you can get me a credit 
at the Bank of France, while I am waiting for returns 
from my Cephalic Oil. 

“ I can give you a letter to the house of Nucingen,” 
replied du Tillet, determined to put his victim through 
every figure in the Bankrupt’s Quadrille. 

Ferdinand sat down at his desk and wrote the fol- 
lowing letter : 

“ To the Baron de Nucingen, Paris. 

My dear Baron : — 

The bearer of this letter is Monsieur Cesar 
Birotteau, deputy mayor of the second ward, and one 
of the most famous of Parisian perfumers ; he desires 
to enter into business relations with you. Pray do, 
with full confidence, whatever he asks ; in obliging 
him, you will oblige 

Your friend, 

F. du TILLET.” 

Du Tillet did not dot the i in his name. Persons 
with whom he transacted business understood this vol- 
untary error as a signal agreed upon between them. 
The most earnest recommendations, the warmest and 
most pressing solicitations in his letters, had, in this case, 
no meaning. Such a letter, in which exclamation points 
begged and du Tillet went down upon his knees, were 
to be regarded as having been given upon powerful 
considerations ; he had not been able to withhold it ; 
but it was to be treated as if it had not been received. 
The recipient, on seeing the i undotted, was to give the 
postulant the cold shoulder. Very many men of the 
world and the most influential, too, are thus bamboozled 
like children, by business men, bankers, lawyers, all of 
whom have double signatures, the one dead, the other 


260 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


living. The sharpest are thus hoodwinked. The effect 
of this ruse will be readily understood by those who 
have had occasion to observe the two-fold action of a 
cold, and of a warm, letter. 

“ You are my savior, du Tibet,” cried Birotteau, on 
reading the letter. 

“ Go and ask Nucingen for money,” returned du Tibet, 
“ and when he has read my letter he’ll give you as much 
as you want. My own funds are unfortunately locked 
up for a few days ; if it wasn't for that, I should not 
send you to this prince of bankers, for the Kellers are 
mere pigmies by the side of the Baron de Nucingen. 
Law has reappeared in Nucingen’s person. My letter 
will set you right for the 15th of January, and after 
that we’ll see another time. Nucingen and I are the 
best friends in the world, and he wouldn’t disoblige me 
for a million.” 

“ It’s as good as an endorsement,” said Birotteau to 
himself, as he went away quite penetrated with gratitude 
towards du Tibet. “Well, one good turn deserves 
another.” And he philosophized thereupon out of sight 
and hearing. One thought, however, embittered his 
happiness. He had, indeed, prevented his wife from 
looking into the books for several days ; he had thrown 
the entire charge of the accounts upon Celestin, aiding 
him himself from time to time, and had given as a rea- 
son his desire that his wife and daughter should enjoy 
the fine suite of apartments he had arranged and fur- 
nished for them ; but, when the novelty should be over, 
Madame Birotteau would rather die than give up look- 
ing into the details of the shop, and holding, as she 
termed it, the handle of the frying pan. Birotteau had 
exhausted his resources ; he had employed every possi- 
ble artifice to conceal from his wife the symptoms of his 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


261 


embarrassment. Constance had severely censured the 
sending out of the bills, she had scolded the clerks and 
accused Celestin of a desire to ruin the house, thinking 
the idea exclusively his ; Celestin, by Birotteau’s order, 
quietly let himself be scolded. Madame Cesar, in the 
clerk’s eyes, managed the perfumer ; for it is possible to 
deceive the public, but not the people of a house, in 
reference to the real superiority of a husband or wife in 
a household. Birotteau must now confess his situation 
to his wife, for his account with du Tillet would require 
justification. On entering the shop, Birotteau shud- 
dered as he saw Constance behind the counter, verify- 
ing the book of Bills Payable, and doubtless adding up 
the amount of available funds. 

“ What are you going to pay with to-morrow ?” she 
whispered as he sat down by her side. 

“ With money,” he answered, drawing forth the bank- 
notes, and beckoning Celestin to come and take them. 

“ Where did they come from ?” 

“ I’ll tell you this evening. Celestin, enter a note 
given to du Tibet’s order, for ten thousand francs, pay- 
able the 31st of March.” 

“Du Tillet !” repeated Constance, terrified. 

“ I’ll go and see Popinot,” said Cesar. “ It’s wrong 
in me not to have made him a visit in his new quarters. 
Is any of his oil sold ?” 

“ The three hundred bottles he sent us are gone.” 

“ Birotteau, don’t go out, I want to speak to you,” 
said Constance, taking him by the arm and dragging 
him into her chamber with a precipitation which, under 
any otl^r circumstances, would have been ludicrous. 
“ Du Tillet,” she said, when she had assured herself 
that she was alone with her husband and Cesarine, “ Du 
Tillet, who robbed us of three thousand francs! You 


262 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


are doing business with du Tillet, a wretch — who tried 
to seduce me ! ” she added in a whisper. 

“ A youthful folly,” said Birotteau, in a sudden fit 
of strong-mindedness. 

“ Birotteau, there’s something wrong, I know ; your 
affairs seem out of order, and you don’t go any more to 
the factory ; tell me what the matter is, I insist upon 
knowing.” 

“Well,” said Birotteau, “we have been on the brink 
of ruin, we still were this morning, but all is right now.” 

And he narrated the horrible history of the fortnight. 

“ S5 that’s the cause of your illness,” cried Constance. 

“ Yes, mamma,” exclaimed Cesarine. “ Father has 
borne up against it so courageously, you can’t think. 
I only hope some one will love me as he loves you. He 
thought of nothing but of your sorrow.” 

“ My dream is fulfilled,” said the poor woman, drop- 
ping into an easy chair by the side of the fire, pale, hag- 
gard, and thoroughly alarmed. “I foresaw it all. I 
told you on that fatal night, in our old bedroom that 
you have torn down, that we should have nothing left 
but our eyes to weep with. My poor Cesarine, I — ” 

“ There you go,” cried Birotteau. “ Isn’t that the way 
to take away the courage that I so much need.” 

“ Pardon me, Cesar,” said Constance, taking his hand 
and pressing it with an affection which went to the poor 
man’s very heart. “ I was wrong. Misfortune has come 
upon us, but I will be silent, resigned, and energetic. 
You shall never hear a complaint from me.” She threw 
herself into Cesar’s arms, and said, through her tears, 
“ Courage, my dear husband, courage ! If necessary, 
I’ll have courage for both of us.” 

“ My oil, wife, my oil will save us.” 

“ May heaven protect us,” said Constance. 


OF CESAR EIROTTEAU. 


263 


“ Won’t Anselme come to father’s assistance ?” asked 
Cesarine. 

“ I am going to see him,” said Cesar, violently affected 
by the heart-rending accent of his wife, who was not 
entirely known to him yet, even after nineteen years of 
married life. “ Have no fear, Constance. Here, read 
du Tibet’s letter to Monsieur de Nucingen, we are sure 
of a credit. Between now and then I shall have won my 
suit. Besides,” he added, telling a necessary fib, “ there 
is uncle Pillerault, so all we have to do is to take 
courage.” 

“If that’s all, it’s easy enough,” said Constance, 
smiling. 

Birotteau, relieved of a heavy weight, walked like a 
man newly released from confinement, though he felt 
within that inexplicable exhaustion which follows a 
violent moral struggle, in which more nervous fluid, 
more will, is expended than in an entire ordinary day, 
and in which, so to speak, the very capital of exis- 
tence is infringed upon. Birotteau had already grown 
old. 

The house of A. Popinot, in the Rue des Cinq Dia- 
mants, had changed considerably during the last two 
months. The shop had been freshly painted. The 
shelves, newly touched up and filled with phials, rejoiced 
the eye of the trader, familiar as he was with the out- 
ward signs of prosperity. The floor was encumbered 
with packing paper. In the store-room were kegs of 
different oils, the agency for which had been obtained 
for Popinot by the devoted Gaudissart. The books, 
the accounts and the till were up-stairs, over the shop 
and the back-shop. An old cook kept house for Popi- 
not and his three clerks. Popinot, shut up in a corner of 
the shop and in a sort of counting-room enclosed by 


264 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


glass, appeared in a coarse serge apron, with double 
sleeves of green cloth, and a pen behind his ear, when 
he was not deep in a pile of papers, as he was when 
Birotteau arrived ; being then engaged in reading the 
mail, which was well filled with drafts and orders. At 
the words, “ Well, my boy !” uttered by his late employer, 
he raised his head, locked up his cubby, and came forth 
with a joyous air, and with the end of his nose quite 
red. There was no fire in the shop, the door of which 
was open. 

“ I was afraid you were never coming,” returned Pop- 
inot, respectfully. 

The clerks gathered round to see the great light of 
perfumery, the deputy with the ribbon, the partner of 
their master. This mute homage flattered the perfumer. 
Birotteau, lately so humble at the Kellers, felt a desire 
to imitate them ; he stroked his chin, bobbed conse- 
quentially upon his heels and toes, and gave utterance 
to numerous commonplaces. 

“Well, my boy, do you get up early, here?” he 
asked. 

“ No, for we do not always go to bed,” said Popinot ; 
“we must keep a tight hold of success.” 

“What did I say ? My oil is a fortune.” 

“Yes, sir, but the manner in which we work it is 
something, too. I have set the diamond well.” 

“ Talking of that,” said the perfumer, “ where are we, 
pecuniarily ? Any profit yet ?” 

“ At the end of a month,” cried Popinot, “ how can 
you expect it ? Gaudissart has only been gone twenty- 
five days, and he took a post chaise without letting me 
know it. Oh, he’s a zealous one, and we owe uncle a 
great deal ! The newspapers,” he added in Birotteau’s 
ear, “ will cost us twelve thousand francs.” 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


265 


“ The newspapers !” exclaimed the deputy. 

“ Haven’t you read them ?” 

“ No.” 

“ Then you know nothing about it,” said Popinot. 
*• Twenty thousand francs worth of placards, frames and 
printing ! A hundred thousand bottles bought ! For 
the present, it is all sacrifice and no profit. We are 
manufacturing upon a large scale. If you had been to 
the Faubourg, where I have often spent the whole night, 
you would have seen a small nut-cracker invented by 
me, which isn’t at all worm-eaten ! As for me, I have 
made ten thousand francs in five days, in commissions 
^upon druggists’ oils alone.” 

“ What a fine head !” said Birotteau, placing his hand 
upon Popinot’s hair, and stirring it up as if Anselme had 
been an unweaned infant. “I knew it all the while.” 
Several persons entered the shop. “ We all dine 
together, Sunday, at your aunt Ragon’s,” said Birotteau, 
who left Popinot to attend to his business, on discover- 
ing that the fresh meat he had come to smell of was not 
yet cut up. “ It is really extraordinary, a clerk who gets 
to be a tradesman in twenty-four hours,” thought Birot- 
teau, who could no more comprehend the success and 
coolness of Popinot, than he could the luxurious habits 
of du Tillet. “ Anselme put on a sort of pretentious 
air, when I placed my hand on his head, as if he were 
already Frangois Keller.” 

It had not occurred to Birotteau that the clerks were 
looking at him, and that the head of a household must 
preserve his dignity at home. At Popinot’s, as at du 
Tibet’s, the good man had committed a blunder from 
pure goodness of heart ; and his failure to restrain the 
awkward expression of a genuine feeling would have 
wounded any one else but Anselme. 


266 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


This Sunday dinner at the Ragons was destined to be 
the last joy of the nineteen happy years of Birotteau’s 
married life, a joy otherwise complete. Ragon occupied 
a second story in the Rue du Petit-Bourbon-Saint-Sul- 
pice, in an antique house of highly decent appearance. 

It was an old suite of rooms, the walls of which were 
divided into panels where shepherdesses danced in 
basket skirts and the sheep of the eighteenth century 
browsed ; a period whose grave and serious bourgeoisie, 
with their curious manners, their respect for the nobility 
and devotion for the sovereign and the church, were 
admirably represented by the Ragons. The furniture, 
the clocks, the linen, ’the crockery, everything seemed* 
patriarchal ; their shapes were new from their very 
antiquity. In the parlor, hung with damask and orna- 
mented with brocatelle curtains, were various chairs and 
couches of antique, forms, and a superb picture by La- 
tour, of Popinot, Madame Ragon’s father and municipal 
dignitary of Sancerre, quite an admirable old gentleman 
upon canvas, smiling like a parvenu in his glory. At 
home, Madame Ragon gave her own character the final 
touch by means of a very small English dog, of the 
breed known as that of Charles II, who produced a 
marvelous effect upon his little hard old-fashioned sofa. 
Besides their numerous virtues, the Ragons were to be 
esteemed for their stock of old wines now arrived at 
perfection, and the possession of a quantity of Madame 
Anfoux’ cordials, which certain persons sufficiently per- 
severing to love, without hope, it is said, the fair Madame 
Ragon, had brought her from the West Indies. Their 
cosy dinners, therefore, were highly esteemed. Jean- 
nette, their old cook, served the two old people with 
blind devotion ; she would have stolen fruit to make 
them preserves. So far from depositing her money in 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


267 


the savings’ bank, she prudently ventured it in the lot- 
tery, hoping one day to bring home the big prize to her 
employers. On Sunday, when there was company, in 
spite of her sixty years, she superintended the dishes in 
the kitchen and the service at the table, with an activity 
which, according to the oft repeated expression of 
Ragon, would have considerably taken down M’lle Con- 
tat in the character of Suzanne in the “ Marriage of 
Figaro.” 

The guests were Judge Popinot, uncle Pillerault, 
Anselme, the three Birotteaus, the three Matifats, and 
the abbe Loraux. Madame Matlfat, who had danced 
in a turban at the ball, wore a blue velvet gown, thick 
cotton stockings and goat-skin shoes, chamois-skin 
gloves edged with green plush, and a hat lined with 
pink and decorated with orange-colored cryptogamian 
plants not unlike mushrooms. These ten persons were 
assembled at five o’clock. The Ragons always begged 
their guests to be punctual. When others, in their turn, 
invited this worthy couple, they took good care to dine 
at this hour, knowing that appetites of seventy years 
standing could not be expected to conform to the new 
hours fixed by, the fashionable world. 

Cesarine was confident that Madame Ragon would seat 
her next to Anselme; all women, including both bigots 
and fools, are perfectly agreed in matters pertaining to 
love. The perfumer’s daughter had therefore gotten 
herself up in a style destined to turn Popinot’s head. 
Her mother, who had abandoned, though not without 
regret, all hope of securing young Crottat, who played, 
in her mind, the part of a hereditary prince, assisted 
her, but with bitter reflections, in her toilet. With ma- 
ternal foresight she lowered the modest gauze necker- 
chief in order slightly to uncover Cesarine’s shoulders 


268 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 



her ears hung chiseled gold pendants. Her hair, drawn 
back a la chinoise, revealed the suave freshness of her 
vein-tinted s<kin, under which glowed the purest vitality. * 
In fact, Cesarine was so coquettishly beautiful, that 
Madame Matifat could not help secretly avowing it, 
though she did not perceive that the mother and 
daughter had resolved to bewitch the youthful Popinot. 


and to expose the junction of the neck, which was re- 
markably elegant. Her Greek corsage, crossed from 
left to right, in five folds, opened from time to time, 
exhibiting admirable curves. Her slate-colored merino 
gown, with flounces trimmed with green ribbons, fitted 
tightly to a form of unusual delicacy and grace. In 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


269 


Neither Birotteau nor his wife, nor Madame Matifat, in 
short, no one, interrupted the delicious conversation 
which the two young people, animated by love, held in 
the embrasure of a window, careless of the infiltering 
breeze. Besides, the conversation of the older person- 
ages became quite lively upon an expression dropped 
by Judge Popinot upon the flight of Roguin, to the 
effect that he was the second notary who had proved 
dishonest, and that such a crime had been totally unknown 
but a few years back. Madame Ragon, at this mention 
of Roguin’s name, nudged her brother’s foot, Pillerault 
drowned the judge’s voice in an observation of his own, 
and both of them bade him remember Madame Birot- 
teau. 

“ I know it all,” said Constance to her friends, in a 
tone at once gentle and sorrowful. 

“ How much did he take?” asked Madame Mattifat 
of Birotteau, who had humbly dropped his head upon 
his bosom. “ If gossip is true, you are ruined.” 

“He had two hundred thousand francs of mine in his 
hands. As for the forty thousand — an imaginary loan 
made by one of his clients whose money he had himself 
squandered — I have gone to law about it.” 

“ It will be decided this week,” said Popinot. “ I 
thought you would have no objection to my explaining 
your situation to the presiding judge ; he ordered 
Roguin’s papers to be transferred to the council 
chamber, that he might find out at what period the 
lender’s funds had been embezzled, and examine the 
proofs of the act as alleged by Derville, who, to diminish 
your costs, managed the case himself.” 

“ Shall we win ?” asked Madame Birotteau. 

“I do not know,” returned Popinot. “Though I 
belong to the chamber before which the affair is 


270 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


brought, I should take no part in the deliberation, even 
if I were called upon/’ 

“How can there be any doubt in so simple a suit?” 
said Pillerault. “ Should not the contract set forth the 
actual delivery of the money ? Must not the notaries 
declare they positively saw it pass from the lender to 
the borrower? Roguin would go to the galleys, if he 
were in the hands of the law.” 

“ My opinion is,” replied the judge, “ that the lender 
ought to find his indemnity in the value of Roguin’s 
office and of the bonds which he filed. But it often 
happens, even in clearer cases, that the counselors are 
six to six.” 

“ What, Mademoiselle, has Monsieur Roguin run 
away?” said Popinot the younger, hearing the conver- 
sation at last. “ Monsieur Cesar has not mentioned it 
to me, and I would give all my blood for him — ” 

Cesarine comprehended that the whole family was 
included under the expression “ for him,” for if the 
innocent child could have mistaken the tone in which 
Popinot spoke, she could not have been deceived in the 
blush which enveloped him, as it were, in a purple blaze. 

“ I knew you would, and I told him so, but he con- 
cealed everything from mother, and told no one but 

„ _ n 

me. 

“ Ah, you mentioned me in his embarrassment,” said 
Popinot ; “ you read my heart, but do you think you 
read everything ?” 

“ Perhaps.” 

“Then I am very happy,” said Anselme. “But if 
you would but relieve me of every doubt, I will be so 
rich in a year that your father won’t give me such a 
cool reception again, when I speak of our marriage. I 
will sleep only five hours a night — ” 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


271 


“ Oh, don’t hurt yourself,” exclaimed Cesarine in an 
inimitable tone, giving Popinot a look in which her 
thoughts were plainly legible. 

“Wife,” said Cesar, on rising from the table, “I 
think those two young ones are in love with each 
other.” 

“Well, I hope they are,” said Constance, gravely, 
“ my daughter would be the wife of an able and ener- 
getic man. Talent is the best dowry a husband can 
bring.” 

She hastily quitted the parlor and went to Madame 
Ragon’s room. During the dinner, Cesar had given 
utterance to several remarks which savored so strongly 
of his ignorance, that they had made Pillerault and the 
Judge smile ; they reminded the unhappy woman how 
unfitted her husband was to struggle with misfortune. 
Constance’s tears fell upon her very heart ; she instinct- 
ively distrusted du Tillet, for every mother understands 
the - Timeo Danaos et dona ferentes , though she may not 
understand Latin. She wept in the arms of her daugh- 
ter and Madame Ragon, but would not tell the cause of 
her affliction. “ It’s nervous,” she said. 

The rest of the evening was spent in playing cards by 
the elder portion of the company, and by the younger 
in those games of forfeits styled “ innocent,” because 
they serve as a cover to the innocent fun of the loves of 
the bourgeoisie. The Matifats played forfeits. 

“ Cesar,” said Constance, as they were riding home, 
“go to the baron de Nucingen’s as early as the 3rd, so 
as to be sure beforehand of meeting your notes due the 
15th. If anything awkward should turn up, you could 
not get together the necessary funds, between one day 
.and another.” 

“ I will go, wife,” returned Cesar, pressing the hands 


272 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


of Constance and his daughter, and adding, “ I have 
given you very sad New Years’ presents, my darlings !” 

In the darkness of the carriage, the two women, who 
could not see the perfumer, felt his hot tears drop fast 
upon their hands. 

“ Hope for the best, husband,” said Constance. 

“ All will go right, father ; Monsieur Anselme Popinot 
told me he would shed his blood for you !” 

“ For me, and for mine, I suppose,” replied Cesar, in 
a gayer tone. 

Cesarine squeezed her father’s hand as much as to 
say that she and Anselme were betrothed. 

Two hundred cards were left at Birotteau’s in the 
three first days of January. Such an avalanche of 
unmeaning friendship, such testimonials of favor, are a 
frightful mockery for men who find themselves involved 
in the current of misfortune. Birotteau called three 
times and in vain at the palace of the famous banker, 
the baron de Nucingen. The opening of the New Year 
and the festivities of the season were a sufficient reason 
for the financier’s absence from home. The last time, 
the perfumer penetrated as far as the banker’s office, 
where his first clerk, a German, told him that Monsieur 
de Nucingen had returned home at five in the morning 
from a ball at the Kellers’, and of course could not be 
seen at half past nine. Birotteau contrived to interest 
the clerk in his affairs, and remained talking with him 
nearly half an hour. In the course of the day, this min- 
ister of the house of Nucingen wrote him that the baron 
would receive him the next day, the 12th, at noon. 
Though each successive hour brought its drop of bitter- 
ness, the day passed with terrible rapidity. The per- 
fumer came in a carriage and stopped at a step or two 
from the palace, the court of which was filled with vehi- 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


273 


cles. The poor honest man felt a twinge at his heart 
at the sight of the splendors of this celebrated firm. 

“ He has, nevertheless, failed twice/’ he said as he 
ascended the staircase richly dressed with flowers, and 
crossed the sumptuous rooms by which the baroness 
Delphine de Nucingen had made herself famous. The 
baroness was ambitious to excel the wealthiest houses 
of the Faubourg St. Germain, into which she was not 
yet admitted. The baron was breakfasting with his 
wife. In spite of the number of persons who were wait- 
iug for him in his counting-house, he said that du Til- 
let’s friends might enter at any hour. Birotteau trem- 
bled with hope as he saw the change produced by the 
baron’s reply upon the insolent face of the valet. 

“ Egscuge be, by tear," said the baron to his wife, get- 
ting up and slightly nodding to Birotteau, “ put dis 
shentlebad was ein goot royalist , ad the idibate friedd of ti 
Dilet. Besides, he is tebuty bayor off te secodd wart, ad giffs 
palls of assiattic bagdificedce. You will bake his acquaitadce 
mit Measure" 

“ I should be very much flattered to be allowed to 
take lessons of Madame Birotteau,” said the baroness, 
“for Ferdinand — ” (‘ dear me !’ thought the perfumer, 
i she calls him Ferdinand’) “spoke to me of your ball 
with an enthusiasm which you ought to appreciate, as 
he is not given to admiration. Ferdinand is a sound 
critic, and everything must have been perfect. Are you 
going to give another soon ?” she asked in the most 
amiable way. 

“ Oh, Madame, poor folks like us cannot amuse our- 
selves very often,” replied the perfumer, ignorant 
whether this speech was intended as a mockery or as an 
ordinary compliment. 


274 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


“ Bister Critdot superidtedded te dekoraticd of your roobs , 
I peliefe," said the baron. 

“ Ah ! Grindot, you mean,” said Delphine, “ a nice 
little architect just returned from Rome. I adore him, 
he draws such delicious sketches in my album.” 

Never was conspirator tortured by the interrogator 
at Venice more uneasy in the gripe of the inquisition, 
than was Birotteau in his clothes. Every word seemed 
to him a jest at his expense. 

“ We giff leetel palls , too," said the baron, giving the 
perfumer a searching look. “ All sorts of beoble giff 
palls" 

“ Mousieur Birotteau, will you breakfast with us with- 
out ceremony ?” said Delphine, indicating the sumptu- 
ously served table. 

“ I come upon business, Madame, and really — ” 

“ Ya," said the baron. “ Badabe, fill you perbit us to 
sprachen pis hues s ?" 

Delphine gave a slight gesture of assent, saying to 
the baron, “ Are you going to get some perfumery ?” 
The baron shrugged his shoulders and turned towards 
the now despairing Cesar. 

“ Ti Dilet veels te host profoudd idterest id you," he said. 

“We are at the point at last,” thought the poor 
tradesman. 

“ Mit his letter , you haff id mein haus ein gredit vish iz 
libided odly py te egstedt off by owd v or tune. 

The exhilerating balsam contained in the water given 
by the angel to Hagar in the desert must have resembled 
the dew infused into the perfumer’s veins by these half 
French words. The cunning baron had preserved the 
horrible pronunciation of the German Jews who flatter 
themselves they talk French, that he might have an 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


275 


excuse for taking back promises which, though clearly 
given, he could say were altogether misunderstood. 

“ And you shall hajf ein agcount curradt . Tis Is te vay 
ve' ll to it," said the good, venerable and truly great 
financier. 

Birotteau could doubt no longer ; he was a business 
man, and he knew that a person who does not intend to 
render a service, never enters into the 'details of its 
accomplishment. 

“ I do not need tell you dat in de great as in de leetel tings , 
de pank temand tree names. Ten you vill draw your nodes 
to de order ov our friend ti Dilet , and he vill de same tay send 
dem mit mein zignature to de pank , and in vone hour you vill 
haf de monish vor your nodes . You vill pay no cost , no que - 
mission , noting at all , vor I sal haf de pies sure in peing acre- 
aple to you — But mit vone contissionf said he, rubbing his 
nose with the forefinger of his left hand, with a 
movement of inimitable cunning. 

“ My dear ^ir, it is granted beforehand,” said Birot- 
teau, who supposed he referred to a share in the profits. 

“ Vone contission to vich I ad de most great brice because I 
visit dat Matame ti Nichinguenne vould dake , as she did zay , 
lezzodz of Matame Pir 6 dSt." 

“ My dear sir, I beg of you not to laugh at me !” 

“ Meinne sire Pirbddt ,” said the financier with a serious 
air, “ it is agreed dat you infite uz to your next pall. Mine 
vife is tchelous j she want to see your habbar demens, ov vich 
dey have so tchenerally spoken." 

“ My dear sir !” 

“ Oh ! iv you refuse , dere is no agcount. You are in great 
fafour. Ya , I know dat you had de brefet of de Seine." 

“ My dear sir !” 

“ You hade La Pillartilre , one shentleman of de chamber , 


276 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


te goot Fenteheine , like you who were wounded — at Cheint- 
Rogue !” 

“ On the 13th Vendemiaire, sir !” 

“ You had Meimiesire te Lasse-et-bette , Meinnesire Fauque- 
leine of de Agate?ny — ” 

“ My dear sir !” 

“Ah! ter teifle ! be not so motesae , mister tepudy. I heerd 
dat de king had said dat your pall — ” 

“ The king !” said Birotteau, who heard no more. 

A young man entered familiarly the room where they 
were, and the lovely Delphine de Nucingen had deeply 
blushed when she recognized his step in the distance. 

“ Goot morning , my tear te Mar say !” said the Baron de 
Nucingen. “ Take you my blaze ; dere is great compagny 
vor me in de offize. I know why ! The mines of Wortschinne 
gif an ing07ne twize more pig as de gabital ! Ya, I have 
received de agcounts ! You hajf one hundred tousand vra?icks 
more for ingome , Matame ti Nichinnkeine. And you gan puy 
kashmires and shimcracks in order to pe peautivul , as if you 
had 7ieet of it.” 

“ Good heavens ! have the Ragons sold their shares !” 
exclaimed Birotteau. 

“ Who are these gentlemen ?” said the young- elegant, 
smiling. 

“ S day f said Monsieur de Nucingen, returning, for he 
had already reached the door. “ Id zee77is to 7ne dat dese 
berso7i7ies — Te Mar say, dis is Meinnesire Pirodot, your bar- 
fumire , who giff te palls of assiatic 77iagniffisensse , and who77i 
te king has gif en de rippon.” 

De Marsay put up his eye-glass, and said, “ Ah ! true, 
I thought the face was not unknown to me. So you 
are going to perfume your affairs with some virtuous 
cosmetic to oil them — ” 

“ Veil, de Rakkons resumed the baron, making a 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


277 


grimace of discontent, “ hat an agcount mit me j I have 
favored tem mid a v or dime, and tey voult no vait vone 
tay more .” 

“ My dear sir !” exclaimed Cesar. 

The poor man found his business extremely obscure, 
and without bowing to the baroness or to de Marsay, he 
ran after the banker. Monsieur de Nucingen was on 
the highest step of the stairs ; the perfumer reached the 
bottom as he was entering his office. As he opened the 
door, Monsieur de Nucingen saw the despairing gesture 
of this poor creature, who felt himself swallowed up in 
a gulf, and said to him, “ Veil! id ist under stool. See 
ti Dilet , and har ranch all mit him." 

Birotteau thought that de Marsay might have some 
influence over the baron ; he remounted the stairs with 
the swiftness of a swallow, glided into the dressing-room 
where the , baroness and de Marsay were still likely to 
be. He had left Delphine waiting for her coffee. He 
saw indeed the coffee on the table, but the baroness and 
the elegant youth had disappeared. The valet smiled 
at the astonishment of the perfumer, who slowly 
descended the stairs. Cesar hastened to du Tillet, 
who was, they told him, in the country, at Madame 
Roguin’s. The perfumer took a hack, and paid the 
driver to go post-speed to Nogent-sur-Marne. At 
Nogent-sur-Marne the porter told him that Monsieur and 
Madame had returned to Paris. Birotteau came back 
crushed. When he told his wife and daughter of his 
excursion, he was amazed to find his Constance, ordi- 
narily perched like a bird of ill-omen on the smallest 
obstacle in business, giving him the sweetest consola- 
tions and declaring that all would be well. 

The next day found Birotteau at seven o’clock, before 
sunrise, watching in du Tibet’s street. He begged the 


278 


THE GKEATNESS AND DECLINE 


porter to obtain him an interview with du Tibet’s valet, 
slipping ten francs into his hand. Cesar obtained the 
favor of speaking with du Tibet’s valet, and asked him 
to let him see du Tibet as soon as he should be visible ; 
and he slipped two pieces of gold into the hand of the 
valet also. These little sacrifices and these great humil- 
iations, common to courtiers and solicitors, gained him 
what he wished. At half past eight, just as his former 
clerk was putting on a dressing-gown, and collecting his 
confused ideas, whilst he yawned and stretched, and 
asked his old master to excuse him, Birotteau found 
himself face to face with the tiger hungering for ven • 
geance, whom he still insisted upon regarding as his 
only friend. 

“ Don’t mind me !” said Birotteau. 

“ What do you want, my good Cesar ? ” said du Til- 
let. 

It was not without frightful palpitations that Cesar 
communicated to du Tibet the answer and the requisi- 
tions of the Baron de Nucingen. Du Tibet, though 
seemingly inattentive, heard it all, as he looked for the 
bellows, and grumbled at his valet for the awkward 
manner in which he had tried to light the fire. 

The valet was listening. Cesar did not perceive him, 
but after some time he did, and stopped short confused ; 
but resumed when du Tibet spurred him on with the 
words, “ Go on, go on, I am listening.” 

The poor man’s shirt was wet with perspiration. The 
drops of sweat froze as du Tibet fixed his look upon 
him, let him see his silver-colored eye-balls striped with 
streaks of gold, piercing him to the heart with a fiend- 
ish glare. 

“ My dear master, the bank has refused some notes 
of yours passed by the house of Claparon to Gigonnet, 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


279 


without guaranty. Is it any fault of mine ? How can 
you, an old consular judge, make such blunders ? I am, 
above all, a banker. I will give you my money, but I 
never could think of exposing myself to the chance of 
having my signature refused by the bank. I only exist 
by credit. We are all alike there. Do you want 
money ?” 

“ Can you give me all I want ?” 

“ That depends upon the sum ; how much do you 
require ?” 

“ Thirty thousand francs !” 

“ Jupiter Ammon, what a shower of bricks !” 
exclaimed du Tillet, bursting into a loud laugh. 

As he heard this laugh, the perfumer, misled by du 
Tibet's luxury, thought he recognized in it the laugh of 
a man to whom the sum was a trifle, and breathed freely. 

Du Tillet rang. 

“Tell my cashier to come up.” 

“ He has not yet arrived, sir,” answered the valet. 

“ Are the rascals jesting with me ? It is half past 
eight ; there should have been business to the amount 
of a million transacted by this hour.” 

Five minutes afterwards Monsieur Legras came up. 

“ How much have we on hand ?” 

“Twenty thousand francs only. You ordered the 
purchase of funds to the amount of thirty thousand 
francs, cash, payable the fifteenth.” 

“ True ; I must be asleep yet.” 

The cashier looked at Birotteau with a side glance 
and went out. 

“ Were truth to be banished from the earth, she would 
entrust her last word with a cashier,” said du Tillet. 

4g£. “ Have you no interest with little Popinot, who is just 
established ?” said he, after a horrible pause, during 


280 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


which the sweat stood in drops like pearls on the per- 
fumer’s brow. 

“Yes,” Birotteau innocently answered. “ Do you 
think you could discount me his signature for any con- 
siderable sum ?” 

“ Bring me his acceptances for fifty thousand francs 
and I will get them done for you at a reasonable rate 
by a certain Gobseck, who is very accommodating when 
he has large sums to invest, as he now has.” 

Birotteau went home heart-broken, without perceiv- 
ing that the bankers were tossing him backwards and 
forwards like a shuttle-cock ; but Constance had already 
foreseen that no credit was obtainable. If three bank- 
ers had already refused, all would be sure to have made 
inquiries about a man as prominent as the deputy, and 
consequently the Bank of France was no longer a possi- 
ble resource. 

“Try to get an extension,” said Constance, “and go 
to Monsieur Claparon, your co-associate ; indeed, go to 
all who hold your notes for the fifteenth, and propose to 
renew them. It will be time enough, in any case, to 
resort to discounters with Popinot’s paper.” 

“ To-morrow’s the thirteenth !” said Birotteau, alto- 
gether cast down. 

To use an expression employed in his prospectus, he 
enjoyed that sanguine temperament, whose consumption 
of vitality, through the emotions or the mind, is enor- 
mous, and which absolutely requires sleep to repair its 
losses. Cesarine led him into' the drawing-room, and 
played him Rousseau’s Dream, a very pretty piece by 
Herold, while Constance worked by his side. The poor 
man sank on the floor with his head upon an ottoman, 
and every time he raised his eyes to his wife, he saw a 
sweet smile on her lips ; in this way he fell asleep. 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


281 


“ Poor man !” said Constance, “ what tortures await 
him ! If he can only bear up.” 

“ What is the matter, mamma ?” said Cesarine, seeing 
her mother in tears. 

“ My dear child, insolvency is close at hand. If your 
father is obliged to fail, we must not think of asking 
any one’s pity. My darling, prepare yourself to become 
a simple shop-girl. If I see you bearing up cour- 
ageously I shall have strength to begin life over again ! 
I know your father, he will not withdraw a sou. I shall 
abandon my rights, all that we have will be sold. Do 
you, my child, take your jewels and wardrobe to-mor- 
row to your uncle Pillerault’s, for there can be no claim 
upon you.” 

Cesarine was seized with terror without bounds as 
she listened to these words, which were uttered with 
religious simplicity. She thought of going in search of 
Anselme, but a feeling of delicacy withheld her. 

The next day, at nine o’clock, Birotteau went to the 
Rue de Provence, a prey to anxieties quite different 
from those through which he had already passed. To 
ask a credit is a very simple thing in business. Every 
day, in undertaking an operation, men are compelled to 
raise the necessary capital ; but to ask for an extension 
is, in commercial jurisprudence, what a police court is 
to the court of assizes, the first step towards insolvency, 
as a misdemeanor leads on to crime. The secret of your 
inability and of your embarrassment is in other hands 
than your own. A merchant places himself bound hand 
and foot at the mercy of another merchant, and charity 
is a virtue not practiced at the Exchange. 

The perfumer, who lately walked the streets of Paris 
with such a look of confidence, now enfeebled by 
doubts, hesitated to enter the house of the banker Clap- 


282 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


aron ; he was beginning to understand that, in the case 
of a banker, the heart is only a portion of the entrails. 
Claparon seemed so brutal in his coarse enjoyments, 
and his manners were so execrably bad, that he trem- 
bled at the idea of approaching him. 

“ He is nearer to the people, perhaps he will have 
more soul !” Such was the first word of accusation 
which his wretched position wrung from him. 

Cesar summoned the last drop of courage from the 
bottom of his soul, and went up the stairs of a misera- 
ble little entre-sol, the once green curtains of which, 
turned yellow by the sun, he had noticed at the win- 
dows. On the door he read the word Office, engraved 
in black on an oval plate of copper ; he rapped, no one 
answered, and he went in. The premises, more than 
unpretending, bespoke penury, avarice or neglect. No 
clerk showed himself behind the zinc net-work placed 
elbow-high upon an unpainted, white wood frame, 
which encircled the blackened tables and standing- 
desks. These deserted desks were covered with ink- 
stands in which the ink was mouldy, with pens as' 
neglected as the hair of dirty boys in the street, and 
twisted into every sort of shape ; and were piled up 
with boxes, papers, and printed notices, without doubt 
useless. The passage-floor resembled that of a board- 
ing-house parlor, so shabby, dirty and damp was it. 

The second apartment, the door of which was adorned 
with the word Cashier , was in harmony with the sinister 
caricatures of the front office. In one corner was a 
large enclosure made of oak and trellised with copper- 
wire, with a movable door for the cat ; there was also a 
large iron trunk, doubtless abandoned to the gambols 
of rats. This enclosure, the door of which was open, 
contained a fantastic desk and a dirty chair ; the latter 


OF CESAR BIROTTEATJ. 


283 


was green and full of holes ; the seat was burst through 
and the horse hair excaped in rakish corkscrew curls, 
rivaling those of its owner’s wig. This room, evidently 
the former parlor of the suite before it was changed into 
a banking office, presented, as its principal ornament, a 
round table covered with a green cloth, around which 
were a few old morocco leather chairs with nails that 
had once been gilt. The mantelpiece, which was toler- 
ably elegant, showed none of the black scarifications of 
fire ; the marble was free from discoloration ; the fly- 
specked mirror, the clock set in mahogany, which had 
been bought at some old notary’s auction, and which 
increased the gloomy effect already produced by two 
candlesticks without candles and by an adhesive dust, 
were mean and repulsive. The mouse-colored, pink- 
bordered paper indicated by its fuliginous shadows that 
it was the resort of smokers. It closely resembled the 
•untidy parlor that newspapers call their “Editorial 
Office.” Birotteau, not wishing to intrude, rapped 
smartly three times upon the door opposite to that by 
which he had entered. 

“ Come in,” said Claparon, the tone of whose voice 
bespoke the distance the sound had traveled, and proved 
that the room in which the perfumer heard the crack- 
ling of a good fire, was empty. 

This chamber, in fact, served for a private cabinet. 
Between the magnificent audience-room of Keller and 
the singular carelessness of this pretended upholder of 
commerce, there was the same difference as between 
Versailles and the wigwam of a Huron chief. The per- 
fumer had seen the grandeurs of banking, he was now 
about to see its disreputable side. In his bed, in a sort 
of dark oblong closet opening out of this cabinet, in 
which the habits of a careless life had confusedly piled, 


284 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


broken, soiled, torn and ruined an entire set of furniture, 
originally almost elegant, was Claparon ; when he saw 
Birotteau, he wrapped himself in his greasy dressing- 
gown, laid aside his pipe, and drew together his bed- 
curtains with a remarkable quickness. 

“Take a seat, sir,” said this scare-crow of a banker. 

Claparon without his wig, and with a handkerchief 
tied round his head, seemed all the more hideous because 
his yawning dressing-gown exposed to view a sort of 
long clothes of white knitted wool, browned by too long 
use. 

“ Will you breakfast with me ?” said Claparon, calling 
to mind the perfumer’s ball, and wishing to return a 
civility as well as distract his attention by this invita- 
tion. 

A round table, hastily cleared of papers, bore witness 
to the attendance of festive company, showing, as it did, 
a pate, oysters, white wine, the inevitable kidneys stewed 
in champagne, and now congealed in their gravy. In 
front of a charcoal-grate the fire was gilding an omelette. 
Two plates and two napkins, soiled at the supper of the 
previous night, were enough to enlighten the purest 
innocence. Claparon, thinking himself a sharp cus- 
tomer, insisted, notwithstanding the refusals of Birotteau. 

“ I was to have some one, but this some one has sent 
an excuse,” exclaimed the ready-witted bagman. 

“ Sir,” said Birotteau, “I -only came on business, and 
I will not detain you long.” 

“ I am overwhelmed with business,” Claparon 
answered, as he pointed to a writing-desk and tables 
laden with papers; “they don’t leave me one poor 
moment to myself. I receive visits on Saturday only ; 
but, for you, dear sir, I am always at home ! I no longer 
find time either to love or to lounge. I am losing my 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


285 


taste for business, and to get it back again in all its 
energy, I must have a little leisurely laziness. I am no 
longer seen upon the boulevards busily occupied in 
nothing. Business is getting tiresome, I don’t want to 
hear business spoken of again, I’ve got money enough, 
but shall never have happiness enough. Yes, I must 
travel, I will visit Italy ! Oh, beloved Italy ! still fair in 
the midst of thy decay, adorable spot where I shall 
doubtless meet some lanquishing and majestic Italian 
lady. Ah ! I have always loved Italian women. Did 
you ever have an Italian woman ? No ? Then come 
with me to Italy. We will see Venice, the home of the 
doge, now unhappily fallen into the undiscerning hands 
of Austria, where the arts are unknown ! Let us leave 
business, canals, loans, and governments alone ! I am 
a princely fellow when my pocket is full. Hurrah ! 
Let us away !” 

“ One word, sir, and I leave you,” said Birotteau. 
“You have disposed of my notes to Monsieur Bidault.” 

“You mean Gigonnet, the good little Gigonnet ; a 
man as easy as — a slip-noose.” 

“Yes,” answered Cesar ; “I should like, and in this 
I reckon upon your honor and your delicacy — ” 

Claparon bowed. 

“ I should like to be able to renew.” 

“Impossible,” the banker answered, curtly; “I am 
not. the only person concerned. We are united in a 
council, a true chamber, but where we harmonize like 
slices of bacon in a frying-pan. Ah ! the deuce ! we 
deliberate, we do. The lands of the Madeleine are 
nothing, we have operations elsewhere. Oh, my dear 
sir, if we were not engaged in the Champs Elysees, in 
the neighborhood of the Exchange, soon to be finished, 
in the Saint-Lazare quarter, and at Tivoli, we should not 


286 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


be, as the fat Nucingen says, in pishness . And what is 
the Madeleine? a trumpery little affair. Bah ! we don’t 
play for nothing, old boy,” he said, tapping Birotteau on 
the stomach and then putting his arms around him. 

“ Come, let us breakfast and talk Claparon resumed, 
in order to soften his refusal. 

“ Willingly,” said Birotteau. “ So much the worse 
for the expected guest,” thought the perfumer, as he 
determined to make Claparon drunk, in order to learn 
who were his real associates in an affair that was begin- 
ning to look rather dark to him. 

“ Good. Victoire !” cried the banker. 

At this call a thorough Leonarde made her appear- 
ance, bedizened like a fish-woman. 

“Tell my clerks that I am not at home for any one. 
not even for Nucingen, the Kellers, Gigonnet, and the 
rest !” 

“ Monsieur Lempereur is the only one that’s come.” 

“ He will receive the fashionable callers,” said Clapa- 
ron. “The small fry must not pass the first room. 
Tell them that I am concocting — a glass of champagne !” 

To intoxicate an old bagman is the one impossible 
thing. Cesar had mistaken the tattle of bad taste for a 
symptom of drunkenness, when he undertook to make 
his associate confess. 

“ This infamous Roguin is still concerned with you,” 
said Birotteau ; “should you not write to him to help a 
friend whom he has compromised, a man at whose 
house he dined every Sunday, and whom he has known 
for twenty years ?” 

“ Roguin ? — -a fool ! his share belongs to us. Don’t 
be down hearted, my good fellow, all will go well. Pay 
on the 15th, and the next time we’ll see. When I say 
we’ll see — another glass, if you please — the funds don’t 


OF OfsSAR BIROTTEATT. 


287 


concern me in the least. Were you to stop payment, I 
shouldn’t look fiercely at you, for my share in the affair 
is simply a commission on the purchases and a percent- 
age on the realizations, in return for which I manage 
the owners — don’t you see ? Your associates are solvent, 
so I am not afraid, my dear sir. There is such a 
division of labor now-a-days. A single operation 
requires the cooperation of so many strong heads ! 
Embark with us in speculation. Don’t go peddling 
about with pomatum and combs — faugh, ugh, disgust- 
ing ! Fleece the public, sir, speculate I” 

“ Speculate !” said the perfumer, “ what sort of busi- 
ness is that ?” 

“ It is business in the abstract,” resumed Claparon ; 
“ a business which will remain secret for ten years more, 
as Nucingen, the Napoleon of finance, says ; by it a 
man takes general views of sums total, skims the cream 
off a dividend before any exists — a gigantic style of 
thing, a way of cutting and drying your expectations 
beforehand, in short, a second cabal ! There are only 
ten or twelve strong heads of us yet initiated into the 
mysterious secrets of these magnificent schemes.” 

Cesar opened his eyes and ears wide, as he tried to 
understand this composite phraseology. 

“ Listen,” said Claparon, after a pause, “ schemes like 
these demand men. There is the man of ideas, who, 
like all men of ideas, hasn’t got a sou. These people keep 
up a deuce of a thinking, without paying attention to 
anything. Just like a hog lounging about in a wood 
where truffles grow. He is followed by a stout fellow, 
the man of money, who waits for the hog to grunt, as 
he always does when he finds a truffle. So when the 
man of ideas hits upon a promising scheme the man of 
money claps him on the shoulder and says, ‘ What have 


288 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


you got there? Take care, my good fellow, you are 
putting yourself in the lion’s mouth, your back isn’t 
strong enough ; take three thousand francs, and let me 
work your idea up and bring it before the public.’ 
Very good ! Then the banker gets together the trades- 
people and says to them, 4 To work, boys ! Prospectuses, 
circulars ! Humbug to the death !’ Then they all get 
trumpets and shout to the sound of the horn, 4 One hun- 
dred thousand francs for five sous !’ or five sous for a 
hundred thousand francs, gold mines, coal mines ! In 
short, all the blowing and kite-flying of trade. We buy 
the opinions of men of science or of art, we put up our 
show-bills, the public rushes in, it gets something or 
nothing for its money, and the receipts are in our 
hands. The hog is shut up in his sty with a half-peck 
of potatoes, and the rest have a fine time with the bank 
bills. That’s it, sir. Speculate, sir. Which will you be, 
hog or goose, clown or millionaire? Think the matter 
over. I have given you a sketch of modern loans. 
Come and see me, you will always find me a clever, 
jolly fellow. Gaiety in the French style, at once serious 
and careless, doesn’t injure business, quite the contrary. 
Men who tinkle their glasses together are the most 
likely to understand each other ! Another glass of 
champagne ! Tip-top, isn’t it? It was sent to me by a 
man that lives at Epernay, on the spot where it’s made, 
for whom I have got a good many high priced customers. 
I was in the wine line once. He is grateful and 
remembers me in my prosperity. A rare thing, as 
times go.” 

Birotteau, surprised at the levity and carelessness of 
this man, to whom the world attributed an astonishing 
penetration and ability, dared not question him further. 
In the confusion of mind produced by the champagne, 


OF CESAR BIROTTEATJ. 


289 


he nevertheless remembered a name that du Tillet had 
pronounced, and asked who Monsieur Gobseck was and 
where he lived. 

“ Have you come to that, my dear sir ?” said Clapa- 
ron. “ Gobseck is a banker in the same way that the 
executioner is a doctor. His first word is fifty per cent.; 
he belongs to the school of Harpagon ; like him, he 
keeps Canary birds, stuffed boa constrictors, furs in sum- 
mer, nankeens in winter ! And what sort of paper have 
you to offer him ? Why, to get him to take your bare 
unendorsed notes, you would have to pawn your wife, 
your daughter, your umbrella, everything, even to your 
hat box, your clogs, — I see you wear jointed clogs — your 
shovel and tongs and the fire wood in your cellar ! 
Gobseck! Gobseck! Virtuous, but unfortunate man, 
who told you of this financial guillotine ?” 

“ Monsieur du Tillet/’ 

“ Ah, the wretch, I know him. We were lately 
friends, but we have quarreled and don’t bow ; you 
may be sure that my repugnance to him is well-founded. 
He let me read to the very bottom of his slimy soul, and 
at your beautiful ball I was quite disgusted with him. 
I can’t stand him with his self-sufficient way. Just 
because a notary’s wife likes him ! I can have a mar- 
chioness whenever I want to. No, I can never esteem 
him, never. I say, old gentleman, you are a sharp one 
to give a ball, and two months afterwards ask for a 
renewal ! You will get on finely. Suppose we go into 
partnership. You have a reputatiou ; this will be of 
use to me. Du Tillet was born to sympathize wfith 
Gobseck. Du Tillet will come to a bad end. If, as 
they say, he is Gobseck’s stool-pigeon, he won’t go 
far. Gobseck is in one corner of his cobweb, crouch- 
ing like an old spider that has been round the world. 


290 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


Sooner or later, whiff ! the usurer will whistle him away 
as I do this glass of wine. I hope he will. Du 
Tillet once played me a trick for which he deserved the 
gallows/’ 

After an hour and a half spent in perfectly senseless 
talk, Birotteau rose to take his leave. “ Farewell, sir,” 
he said. 

“ You will have to come and see me again,” Claparon 
returned. “ Cayron’s first note has come back protested, 
and as I was an endorser, I paid it. I shall send round 
to your place ; business before pleasure.” 

Birotteau felt struck to the heart by this cold and 
pretended obligingness as much as by Keller’s harsh- 
ness and by Nucingen’s German mockery. The famil- 
iarity of this man, and his grotesque disclosures, colored 
by the influence of champagne, had wounded the honest 
perfumer to the soul ; he believed he was leaving a 
financial hell. He descended the stairs, found himself 
in the street, without knowing whither he was going. 
He walked along the Boulevards, reached the Rue Saint 
Denis, remembered Molineux, and directed his steps 
towards the Cour Batave. He mounted the filthy stair- 
case which so lately he had ascended in his pride and 
glory. He called to mind the meanness and asperity of 
Molineux, and shuddered at the idea of having to ask 
him a favor. As at the perfumer’s first visit, the land- 
lord was at his fireside, but, this time, was digesting his 
breakfast. Birotteau stated what he came for. 

“ Renew a note for twelve hundred francs !” said 
Molineux, with an expression of laughing incredulity. 
“ Surely you are not in such a tight place as that, sir ! 
If you haven’t twelve hundred francs with which to 
meet the note on the fifteenth, you will send back my 
receipt for rent not paid ! Ah, I should be sorry for 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


291 


that ! I don’t stand upon the smallest ceremony with 
respect to money ; my rents are my revenues. How 
should I pay what I owe without them ! No tradesman 
will disapprove of this salutary principle. Money is no 
respecter of persons ! Money has no sense of hearing ! 
Money has no heart ! The winter is severe. See how 
the price of wood has gone up. If you don’t pay on the 
fifteenth, on the sixteenth a little summons at noon. 
Bah ! that fellow, Mitral, your bailiff, is also mine ; he 
shall send you his summons under cover, with all the 
respect due to your high position.” 

“ Sir, I have never received a summons for any account 
of mine,” said Birotteau. 

“ Everything has a commencement,” said Molineux. 

Aghast at the little old man’s up and down hard- 
heartedness, the perfumer was crushed to earth, for he 
heard the knell of insolvency ringing in his ears. Each 
stroke awakened the remembrance of the speeches which 
his relentless theories had suggested to him in regard 
to bankrupts. His own decisions were now writing 
themselves in characters of fire on the soft substance 
of his brain. 

“ Apropos,” said Molineux, “ you forgot to put 1 value 
received in rent ’ on your notes ; this may give me a pre- 
ference over other creditors.” 

“ The position I am in forbids my doing anything to 
the detriment of any of my creditors,” said the perfumer, 
stupefied at the sight of the yawning gulf. 

“ Good, sir ; very good ; I thought I had learned 
everything relating to lodgers and lodgings. I learn 
from you never to receive payment in notes ! Ah ! I 
shall go to law, for your answer says plainly enough 
that you will not meet your obligations.- This particu- 
lar case concerns all the house-owners in Paris.” 


292 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


Birotteau went out disgusted with life. It is the 
nature of a tender, yielding nature like his to be dis- 
heartened at the first refusal, in the same way that a 
first success encourages it. Cesar no longer hoped in 
anything but the devotedness of little Popinot, about 
whom he naturally thought as he passed the market- 
place. 

“ Poor fellow ! who could have told me this when, 
six weeks since, at the Tuileries, I first started him in 
business !” 

It was about four o’clock, the time when the magis- 
trates were leaving the court-house. By chance, the 
examining judge had come to see his nephew. This 
magistrate, one of the most penetrating of men in 
ethical matters, possessed a second sight which enabled 
him to discover one’s secret intentions, to detect the 
tendency of the most indifferent actions, the germs of a 
crime, the roots of a misdemeanor ; he looked at Birot- 
teau without the perfumer’s knowing it. Birotteau, 
thwarted by the uncle’s presence, seemed to the magis- 
trate to be restrained, absent, thoughtful. Little Popi- 
not, always busy, with pen behind his ear, was, as ever, 
humbly obsequious in the presence of his Cesarine’s 
father. The commonplace things, which Cesar said to 
his partner seemed to the Judge to be the precursors of 
an important demand. Instead of going, the shrewd 
magistrate remained, without any invitation from his 
nephew, for he had calculated that the perfumer would 
try to get rid of him by retiring himself. When Birot- 
teau departed, the Judge went away, but he noticed 
Birotteau sauntering in that part of the Rue des Cinq 
Diamants which leads to the Rue Aubry-le-Boucher. 
This trifling circumstance made him suspect Cesar’s 
intentions ; so he went out by the Rue des Lombards, 


OF CESAR BIROTTEATT. 


293 


and when he had seen the perfumer re-enter, he quickly 
hastened back himself. 

“ My dear Popinot,” Cesar had said to his associate, 
“ I have come to ask a favor of you.” 

“ What can I do for you ?” said Popinot, with gener- 
ous zeak 

“ Ah ! you save my life,” exclaimed the poor man, 
happy to find this warmth of heart scintillating in the 
midst of the polar region where he had been traveling 
for the last three weeks. 

“It will be necessary to advance me fifty thousand 
francs on account of my portion of the profits ; we will 
agree about the payment.” 

Popinot looked fixedly at Cesar ; Cesar lowered his 
eyes. At this moment the Judge reappeared. 

“ My boy — ah ! pardon, Monsieur Birotteau ! My 
boy, I forgot to tell you — ” 

With a magisterial gesture, the Judge drew his 
nephew into the street, and compelled him, although in 
his shirt-sleeves and bare-headed, to listen to him as 
they walked towards the Rue des Lombards. 

“ My nephew, your former master may find himself 
in such a state of embarrassment as to be obliged to 
fail. Before reaching that point, men who can count 
their forty years of honesty, the most virtuous men, 
desiring to keep their honor intact, imitate the most 
rabid gamblers ; they are capable of anything. They 
sell their wives, traffic with their daughters, compromise 
their best friends, pledge what does not belong to them. 
They frequent gaming-tables, become actors, liars. They 
even learn how to weep ; — indeed, I have seen the most 
extraordinary things. You yourself have witnessed the 
genial ways of Roguin, to whom any one would have 
given absolution without first requiring confession ! I 


294 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


don’t apply these severe conclusions to the case of Mon- 
sieur Birotteau. I believe him to be honest ; but should 
he ask you to do anything contrary to the laws of 
trade, such as signing accommodation notes and draw- 
ing you into a system of circulations, which, in my 
opinion, is a beginning of rascality, for it is really coun- 
terfeit paper, promise me you will not sign anything 
without consulting me. Consider that, if you love his 
daughter, you must not even for the advancement of 
your wishes, destroy your future prospects. If Mon- 
sieur Birotteau must fall, why should both of you fall ? 
Is it not depriving you of all chance of making your 
commercial house his refuge ?” 

“ Thanks, uncle. A word to the wise is sufficient,” 
said Popinot, to whom his master’s heart-rending excla- 
mation was now explained. 

The oil-dealer returned to his sombre shop with a 
thoughtful brow. Birotteau remarked the change. 

“ Do me the honor to go up-stairs into my room. We 
shall be better there than here. The clerks, although 
much occupied, might hear us.” 

Birotteau followed Popinot, a prey to the anxieties of 
the criminal awaiting the reversal of his sentence or the 
rejection of his appeal. 

“My dear benefactor,” said Anselme, “ you cannot 
doubt my devotion. It is absolutely blind. Only let 
me ask if this sum makes you entirely safe, or if it is 
only to delay the catastrophe ? If so, what good can 
there be in drawing me into it ? You require notes at 
ninety days. Well, in three months it certainly will be 
impossible for me to meet them.” 

Birotteau, pale and solemn, rose up and looked Popi- 
not in the face. 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


295 


Popinot, in alarm / exclaimed, “ I will do it if you 
wish !” 

“ Ingrate !” said the perfumer, who gathered up all 
his remaining strength to hurl this word at Anselme’s 
forehead as a brand of infamy. 

Birotteau walked towards the door and went out. 
Popinot, having recovered from the sensation which this 
terrible word had produced, rushed to the stairs, ran into 
the street, but could not find the perfumer. This for- 
midable decree kept perpetually ringing in the ears of 
Cesarine’s lover ; he had constantly before his eyes poor 
Cesar's distorted features ; he lived, in short, like Ham- 
let, with a terrible spectre at his side. 

Birotteau wandered up and down the streets in the 
neighborhood like a drunken man. However, he at 
length found himself on the quay, followed it and went 
as far as Sevres, where he spent the night in a small inn, 
beside himself with grief. His terrified wife did not 
dare to send after him anywhere. In a case like this, an 
alarm imprudently raised is fatal. Constance judi- 
ciously immolated her anxiety as a sacrifice to commer- 
cial honor. She watched through the whole night, 
mingling her prayers with her forebodings. Was Cesar 
dead? Had he left the city, lured by some last hope ? 
The next morning she behaved as if she were aware of 
the reasons why he was absent ; but she begged her 
uncle to go to the dead house when, at five o’clock, 
Birotteau had not returned. During all this time the 
courageous creature was at her counter ; her daughter 
was embroidering at her side. Both, with composed 
features, neither sorrowful nor smiling, waited upon the 
public. When Pillerault came back, he returned accom- 
panied by Cesar. As he was returning from the 
Exchange, he had met him in the Palais-Royal, hesitat- 


296 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


in g whether to enter a gambling-room. This day was 
the 14th. 

At dinner Cesar could eat nothing ; his stomach, too 
violently contracted, rejected all food. The tradesman 
experienced, for the hundredth time, one of those"' 
frightful alternations of hope and despair, which, caus- 
ing the mind to run up the whole scale of joyous sensa- 
tions only to hurl it back to the darkest depths of grief, 
exhaust such feeble natures. Derville, Birotteau’s 
attorney, came rushing into the splendid drawing-room, 
where Madame Cesar with the utmost difficulty kept 
her poor husband, for he wished to go to bed in the fifth 
story. “That I may not see the monuments of my 
folly !” he said. 

“ The suit is gained,” said Derville. 

At these words Cesar’s contracted features expanded, 
but his joy alarmed Pillerault and Derville. The terri- 
fied women retired to weep in Cesarine’s bedroom. 

“ Then I can borrow !” cried the perfumer. 

“That would not be prudent,” said Derville ; “they 
have appealed; the court may reverse the judgment. 
But in one month we shall have a decision.” 

“ In a month !” 

Cesar fell into a state of prostration from which no 
one tried to rouse him. This species of inverted cata- 
lepsy, during which the body lived and suffered, whilst 
the functions of the understanding were suspended, this 
chance-bestowed respite was looked upon as a blessing 
from God by Constance, Cesarine, Pillerault and Der- 
ville, and they judged wisely. Birotteau was thus able 
to support the distracting emotions of the night. He 
sat in an easy-chair on one side of the fireplace ; on the 
other sat his wife attentively watching him, with a sweet 
smile on her lips — one of those smiles which prove that 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


297 


women approach nearer to the nature of angels than 
men, knowing, as they do, how to mingle infinite ten- 
derness with the most complete compassion, a secret 
possessed only by those angels seen in dreams, scattered 
by Providence at long intervals over the path of life. 
Cesarine sat on a small stool at her mother’s feet, and 
from time to time gently stroked her father’s hand with 
her hair, trying to give this caress an expression of ten- 
derness which, in a crisis like this, is imperfectly con- 
veyed by the voice. 

Seated in his arm-chair as the Chancellor de l’Hospi- 
tal is in his in the peristyle of the Chamber of Deputies, 
Pillerault, the philosopher, whom nothing astonished, 
displayed in his face that intelligence sculptured on the 
brows of the Egyptian sphynxes, and conversed with 
Derville in a low tone. Constance had advised consult- 
ing the attorney, whose discretion was beyond sus- 
picion. Having her balance-sheet clearly in her head, 
she had confided the state of things to Derville. After 
nearly an hour’s conference, held under the eyes of the 
senseless perfumer, the attorney shook his head as he 
looked at Pillerault. 

“ Madame,” said he, with the horrible coolness of men 
of business, “ you must suspend payment. Supposing 
that, by some contrivance or other, you manage to pay 
to-morrow, you must come down with at least three 
hundred thousand francs before you can raise a loan on 
any of your lands. Against debts to the amount of five 
hundred and fifty thousand francs you show very good, 
very productive, assets, but they cannot be realized.. 
You must succumb within a given time. My opinion 
is, that it is better to jump out of the window than to 
be pitched down stairs.” 

“ That is my opinion also, my child,” said Pillerault, 


298 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


Derville was led to the door by Madame Cesar and 
Pillerault. 

“ Poor papa,” said Cesarine, gently rising to kiss 
Cesar’s forehead. “ So Anselme has not been able to 
do anything?” she asked, when her uncle and mother 
came back. 

“ Ingrate !” cried Cesar, struck by this name in the 
only conscious part of his memory — as the key of a 
piano causes its hammer to strike its own peculiar string. 

From the moment in which this word had been hurled 
at him like an anathema, little Popinot had not had a 
minute’s sleep, not an instant’s rest. The wretched 
youth cursed his uncle, and had been to see him. To 
make this aged judicial experience capitulate, he had 
poured out the eloquence of love, hoping to gain over a 
man through whom mortal words ran like water through 
a sieve — a judge. 

“ Speaking in a business-like way,” he said to him, 
“ custom allows an active partner to make over to his 
silent partner a certain sum in anticipation of the profits, 
and our partnership is in a fair way to produce good 
returns. After a thorough examination of my affairs, I 
feel myself strong enough to pay forty thousand francs 
in three months ! Monsieur Cesar’s uprightness permits 
us to believe that these forty thousand francs will be 
devoted to paying his notes. So the creditors, should 
there be a failure, will not be able to reproach us ! 
Besides, uncle, I would rather lose forty thousand francs 
than run the risk of losing Cesarine. At this very 
moment, she has doubtless been told of my refusal, and 
will soon think harshly of me. I promised to give my 
blood for my benefactor ! I am in the position of the 
young sailor who is to sink holding his captain’s hand, 
of the soldier who is to perish at his general’s side.” 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


299 


“ You are a good fellow and a bad business man, but 
you will not lose my esteem,” said the judge, as he 
warmly grasped his nephew’s hand. “ I have thought 
much about this ; I know that you are madly in love 
with Cesarine ; I believe you can satisfy the laws of the 
heart and also the laws of trade.” 

“ Oh ! uncle, if you have found out how to do so, you 
save my honor.” 

“ Advance Birotteau fifty thousand francs, and let a 
contract be signed by which he may redeem his interest 
in your oil, which is now, as it were, a property. I will 
draw up the paper.” 

Anselme embraced his uncle, returned home, signed 
notes for fifty thousand francs, and ran from the Rue des 
Cinq Diamants to the Place Vendome ; so that just as 
Cesarine, her mother, and their uncle Pillerault were 
gazing at the perfumer, surprised at the sepulchral tone 
with which he had pronounced the word, Ingrate ! in 
answer to his daughter’s question, the parlor door 
opened, and Popinot appeared. 

“ My dear and well beloved master,” said he, wiping 
the perspiration from his forehead, “ there is what you 
asked me for.” 

He held out the notes. 

“Yes, I have carefully examined my position ; have 
no fear, I shall pay. Save your honor !” 

“ I was quite sure of him,” cried Cesarine, joyfully, 
seizing Popinot’s hand, and pressing it with convulsive 
force. 

Madame Cesar embraced Popinot ; the perfumer rose 
like one of the just on hearing the last trumpet ; he 
came, as it were, from the tomb ! Suddenly he reached 
forth his hand with a frenzied gesture, to clutch the 
fifty stamped papers. 


300 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


“ One moment !” said the terrible uncle Pillerault, as 
he snatched the notes from Popinot ; “ one moment !” 

The four personages who composed this group — Cesar 
and his wife, Cesarine and Popinot, astounded at their 
uncle’s action and by the tone of his voice, saw him 
with terror tear the notes and throw them into the fire. 
The flames consumed them, without any one’s trying to 
save them. 

“ Uncle !” 

“ Uncle !” 

“ Uncle!” 

“ Sir !” 

There were four voices, four hearts in one, a terrible 
unanimity. Uncle Pillerault put his arm around Popi- 
not, pressed him to his heart and kissed his forehead. 

“ You are worthy to be worshiped by all those who 
have a heart,” he said to him. “If you loved a daughter 
of mine, had she a million and you no more than that — ” 
he pointed to the black ashes of the notes — “ if she 
loved you, you should be married in a fortnight. Your 
master is out of his senses ! Nephew,” Pillerault gravely 
resumed, “ no more illusions ! We must transact business 
with energy, not with sentiments. This is sublime but 
useless. I have passed two hours at the Exchange ; you 
have not one copper’s worth of credit ; every one was 
talking of your disaster, of your applications to several 
bankers, of their refusals, of your follies, such as going 
up six pairs of stairs to see a landlord who is as garru- 
lous as a magpie, and giving a ball to conceal your 
embarrassment. They go so far as to say you had 
nothing at all in Roguin’s hands. According to your 
enemies, Roguin is a mere makeshift. One of my friends, 
whom I had commissioned to listen to everything that 
was said, confirms my suspicions. Everybody predicts 




UNCLE FILLER AULT SNATCHED THE NOTES AND THREW THEM INTO THE FIRE 














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OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


303 


the emission of Popinot’s notes, and the idea is that you 
started him on purpose to make a paper-mill of. In 
short, you are the subject of all that calumnious and 
slanderous talk that a man draws upon himself when he 
strives to get up a round or two on the social ladder. 
Take a week and offer Popinot’s fifty notes at every desk 
in Paris ; ’twould be in vain ; you would meet with 
humiliating refusals ; no one would take them ; there’s 
nothing to show what number of them you issue, and 
everybody expects you to sacrifice the poor boy to save 
yourself. You would destroy the credit of the house of 
Popinot without benefiting your own. How much do 
you suppose the most daring note-shaver in town would 
give for your fifty thousand francs ? Twenty thousand ! 
Do you hear, twenty thousand ! There are certain times 
in the life of a tradesman when he must stand up before 
the public three days without eating, just as if he had a 
belly full, and on the fourth he will be admitted to the 
larder of credit. You cannot get through these three 
days, and that’s the fatal point. Courage, my poor 
nephew, you must make an assignment. As soon as 
your clerks are gone to bed, Popinot and I will set to 
work together, in order to spare you the affliction.” 

“ Uncle!” said the perfumer, clasping his hands. 

“ Cesar, would you prefer to wait and then make a 
disgraceful assignment, with nothing to assign ? At 
present, your interest in Popinot’s house preserves your 
honor. 

Cesar, enlightened by this last fatal flash of light, 
at length saw the frightful truth in its full extent; he 
fell back in his chair, then dropped upon his knees, his 
mind wandered, and he became childish ; his wife 
thought he was dying and stooped down to raise him up ; 
but sh.e u.uked with him, when she saw him join his 


304 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


hands, raise his eyes and repeat, with all the compunc- 
tion of resignation, in presence of his uncle, His daugh- 
ter and Popinot, the Lord’s sublime prayer : 

“ Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name: 
thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in 
heaven : give us this day our daily bread, and for- 
give us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass 
against us. Amen.” 

Tears rose to the eyes of the stoical Pillerault, and 
Cesarine, weeping and overwhelmed, leaned her head 
upon the shoulder of Popinot, who was as pale and 
stark as a statue. 

“ Let us go down-stairs,” said the ironmonger to the 
young man, as he took his arm. 

At half past eleven, they left Cesar in charge of his 
wife and daughter. At this moment, Celestin, the head 
clerk, who had carried on the shop during this secret 
storm, came up-stairs and entered the parlor. On hear- 
ing his step, Cesarine ran to open the door, that he 
might not see his master’s prostration. 

“Among the letters which should have been delivered 
to-night,” he said, “ there was one from Tours, but it 
was misdirected, and so arrived late. I supposed it was 
from master’s brother, so I did not open it.” 

“ Father,” cried Cesarine, “a letter from my uncle 
at Tours !” 

“ Ah, I am saved !” exclaimed Cesar. “ My brother ! 
my brother ! ” he said, kissing the letter. 

Francois' reply to Char Birotteau . 

“ Tours, 17th. 

“Your letter, my well beloved brother, caused me 
the liveliest sorrow. I went, after having read it, and 
offered up to God the holy sacrifice of the mass in your 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


305 


behalf, imploring him, by the blood shed for us by his 
Son our Saviour, to look with pity upon your woes. As 
I pronounced my prayer Pro meo fratre Ccesare , my eyes 
filled with tears at the thought of my unfortunate sep- 
aration from you at the time when you most need the 
support of a brother’s love. But it then occurred to me 
that the worthy and venerable Monsieur Pillerault 
would doubtless take my place. My dear Cesar, do 
not forget in the midst of your afflictions, that this life 
is one of trial, and is at best , a transitory sojourn ; that 
we shall be one day rewarded for our sufferings for the 
sacred name of God and for his holy church ; for our 
reverent observation of the maxims of the Gospel and for 
our practice of virtue ; otherwise the affairs of this world 
would have no meaning. If I repeat these self-evident 
truths to you, knowing how good and pious you are, it 
is because it often happens that those who, like you, are 
tossed by the storms of the world and thrown upon the 
perilous sea of human interests, allow themselves to 
blaspheme in the midst of their adversities, carried away, 
as they are, by their sorrows. Curse neither the man who 
offends you, nor God who mingles gall in your cup ac- 
cording to his holy pleasure. Look not upon the earth, 
but rather lift your eyes to heaven, whence cometh con- 
solation for the weak ; where treasure is laid up for the 
poor, where terror awaits the rich — ” 

“ Omit all that, Birotteau,” said his wife, “ and see if 
he send us anything.” 

“ We will read it often,” said the tradesman, wiping his 
eyes and half opening the letter, from which fell a 
check upon the royal treasury. “ I felt sure he would, 
poor brother,” added Birotteau, picking up the check. 

I called upon Madame de Listomere,” he resumed, 


306 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


in a voice half choked by sobs, “ and without giving my 
reasons, begged her to lend me such sums as she could 
dispose of in my favor, in order to swell the amount of 
my poor savings. Her generosity enables me to make 
up the sum of one thousand francs, which I send you 
herewith in an order upon the treasury signed by the 
receiver general of Tours.” 

“ As if that would do us any good !” said Constance, 
looking at Cesarine. 

“ By cutting off certain luxuries in my habits, I shall 
be able to refund Madame de Listomere the four hun- 
dred francs she has lent me, in the space of three years, 
so have no anxiety about it, my dear Cesar. I send you 
all I possess in the world, in the hope that it may aid to 
bring your commercial embarrassments to a happy con- 
clusion ; no doubt they will be but temporary. I know 
your delicacy, and desire to meet all your objections. 
Do not ask either to give me interest upon this sum, or 
to return the sum itself in the day of prosperity, which, 
if God deigns to listen to my daily prayer, will soon 
arrive. From your last letter, received two years ago, 

I had supposed you rich, and had thought I might give 
my economies to the poor ; but now everything I have 
is yours. When you have weathered this passing storm 
upon your voyage, keep the money for my niece Cesarine 
so that, when she is married, she may purchase with it 
some trifle to remind her of an old uncle, whose hands 
shall always be raised to heaven with the prayer that 
God may shower down his blessings on her and all who 
are dear to her. Finally, my dear Cesar, remember that ' 
I am a poor priest following the will of God like the 
sparrows of the field, walking quietly in the path laid 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAC. 


307 


out for me, striving to obey the commandments of our 
divine Saviour, and that I have need of but little here 
below. So, have no scruples whatever in the embar- 
rassing situation of your affairs, but think of me as of 
one who loves you, tenderly. Our excellent abbe 
Chapeloud, whom I have not told of your circumstances, 
but who knows that I am writing to you, sends the 
kindest love to all the members of your family, and 
hopes for the continuation of your prosperity. Fare- 
well, dear and well-beloved brother. I trust that God 
will keep you in good health, you, your wife and daugh- 
ter, in this conjuncture of your fate ; and I pray that 
you may have patience and courage in your tribulation. 

Francois Birotteau. 

Priest, vicar of the cathedral and parish church of 
Saint Gatien, at Tours.” 

“A thousand francs !” said Constance, angrily. 

“ Put them by,” said Cesar, gravely, “ it’s all he has. 
Besides, they belong to our daughter, and will support 
us without our asking anything of our creditors.” 

“They will believe that you have withdrawn heavy 
sums.” 

“I will show them the letter.” 

“ They’ll say it’s a forgery.” 

“ May the Lord have mercy on me !” cried Birotteau, 
in terror. “ I have thought as ill of poor people who 
were doubtless in just my situation.” 

Rendered exceedingly anxious by Cesar’s state of 
mind, the mother and daughter worked at their sewing 
beside him in profound silence. At two o’clock in the 
morning, Popinot gently opened the parlor door, and 
beckoned to Madame Cesar to go down. On seeing his 
niece, the uncle took off his spectacles. 


308 


THE GEEATNESS AND DECLINE 


“ My child,” he said, “ there is some hope yet, all is 
not lost ; but your husband could not support the uncer- 
tainties of the negotiations to be made, which Popinot 
and I will undertake ourselves. Do not leave the shop 
to-morrow, and take the address of the holders of all 
notes presented for payment, for we have up to four 
o’clock. My plan is this. Neither Monsieur Ragon nor 
I are to be feared. Now, suppose that your hundred 
thousand francs on deposit at Roguin’s have been made 
over to the purchasers, you would not have them any 
more than you have them now. You have to deal with 
notes amounting to one hundred and forty thousand 
francs, to Claparon’s order, which you would have to 
pay in any state of the case. So that it is not Roguin’s 
bankruptcy which ruins you. To meet your liabilities, 
I see forty thousand francs to be borrowed sooner or 
later upon your factories, and sixty thousand francs in 
notes to be signed by Popinot. We can still struggle, 
therefore, for afterwards, you can raise funds on the 
Madeleine lands. If your principal creditor agrees to 
assist you, I will not consider my fortune an instant, I 
will sell my stocks and be without bread. Popinot will 
be between life and death ; as for you, you will be at 
the mercy of the most trifling commerical accident. 
But the oil will doubtless bring in large profits. 
Popinot and I have taken counsel together, and we will 
stand by you in the battle. Ah, I would eat my dry 
bread with joy, if success only smiles at us from afar. 
But all depends upon Gigonnet and Claparon’s asso- 
ciates. Popinot and I are going to Gigonnet’s between 
seven and eight o’clock, and we will learn what their 
intentions in the premises are.” 

Constance threw herself in agony into her uncle’s 
arms, speechless except by tears and sobs. Neither 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


309 


Popinot nor Pillerault could possibly have known that 
Bidault, familiarly called Gigonnet, and Claparon were 
no other than du Tillet in a double form, and that du 
Tillet was anxious to see these terrible words in the 
Petites A ffiches : 

“ The Decision of the Tribunal of Commerce, declar- 
ing Cesar Birotteau, retail perfumer, residing at Paris, 
Rue St. Honore, No. 397, bankrupt, provisionally appoints 
the 16th day of January, 1819, for the commencement of 
proceedings. Commissary -judge, Monsieur Gobenheim 
Keller : agent, Monsieur Molineux.” 

Anselme and Pillerault continued their investigation 
of Cesar’s affairs till day-light. At eight in the morn- 
ing, the two heroic friends, the one an old soldier, the 
other but just passed second-lieutenant, who were des- 
tined never to know, but as the representatives of 
another, the anguish of those who ascend the stairway 
of Bidault, familiarly styled Gigonnet, proceeded, with- 
out speaking, to the Rue Grenetat. They felt really 
‘ill. Pillerault pressed his hands several times upon his 
forehead. 

The Rue Grenetat is a street in which the houses, 
which are overrun by a multiplicity of trades, present a 
most repulsive aspect. The buildings are of an offen- 
sive character. The disgusting filth peculiar to manu- 
factories is everywhere prevalent. Old Gigonnet occu- 
pied the third story of a house all the windows of 
which turned on a pivot and had dirty little panes. 
The staircase came down to the very street. The por- 
tress was stationed in the entre-sol, in a sort of cage 
lighted from the staircase only. All the tenants fol- 
lowed a trade, except Gigonnet. Workpeople were 
continually passing out and in. The steps were covered 


310 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


with a layer of mud, which was hard or soft according 
to the weather, and to which the refuse of the house 
stuck fast. Each landing-place of this foul passage-way 
exhibited the names of the occupants printed in gold 
upon a red and varnished plate, with specimens of their 
best handiwork. The greater part of the time the 
doors were open and displayed the singular union of 
the family and factory, from which issued the most 
remarkable cries, whistlings, groans and songs, remind- 
ing one of the hour for feeding the animals at the Gar- 
den of Plants. On the first story, in a noisome kennel, 
were made the finest suspenders sold in Paris. On the 
second, in the midst of the most abominable dirt, were 
produced the most elegant paper boxes that decorate 
the windows of the boulevards and the Palais Royal on 
New Year’s Day. Gigonnet, at a later period, died in 
the third story of this house, the possessor of eighteen 
hundred thousand francs, having resisted every induce- 
ment to move out of it, and in spite of the offer of his 
niece, Madame Gaillard, to give him rooms in her pri- 
vate hotel in the Place Royale. 

“ Courage !” said Pillerault, as he pulled the deer’s 
foot forming the handle of the bell-rope, at Gigonnet’s’ 
comparatively clean, but dingy door. 

Gigonnet opened the door himself. The perfumer’s 
two sponsors who had entered the lists on the field of 
bankruptcy crossed a coldly correct ante-chamber, 
without curtains at the windows. The three sat down 
in the second room, the usurer placing himself before a 
fireplace choked with ashes, in the midst of which the 
wood was sputtering in its struggle with the fire. Popi- 
not felt his very soul frozen at the sight of his green 
paper boxes, and by the monastic stiffness of his office, 
which was no better aired than a cellar. He looked 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAIT. 


311 


gloomily at the bluish paper with tri-colored flowers 
which had adorned the walls for the last twenty-five 
years, and then transferred his gaze to the mantelpiece 
on which stood a clock in the form of a lyre, with 
oblong vases of blue Sevres porcelain richly set in a gilt 
brass frame. These waifs, picked up by Gigonnet at the 
destruction of Versailles, came from the queen’s boudoir ; 
but the precious vessels were flanked on either hand by 
two iron candlesticks of the most wretched model, which 
reminded one, by the frightful contrast, of the circum- 
stance to which Gigonnet owed their possession. 

“ I know you don’t come for yourselves,” said Gigon- 
net, “ but for the great Birotteau. Very good ! Vot 
can I do for you, my friends ?” 

“We have nothing new to tell you, so we will be 
brief,” returned Pillerault. “You hold in your hands a 
number of notes payable to the order of Claparon ?” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Will you exchange the first fifty thousand for others 
signed by Monsieur Popinot here, we paying the dis- 
count, of course ?” 

Gigonnet lifted off his old green cap, which seemed to 
have been born with him, displayed his bald, fresh butter 
colored skull, made an odd grimace, and said, “ You 
vant to pay me in hair-oil, vot could I do vith it ?” 

“ If you are merry, we might as well pull up stakes,” 
said Pillerault. 

“You talk like a wise man as you are,” replied 
Gigonnet with a flattering smile. 

“ Suppose I were to endorse Monsieur Popinot’s 
notes ?” said Pillerault, making a final effort. 

“You are gold in solid ingots, Monsieur Pillerault, 
but I don’t want gold, I only want my money.” 

Pillerault and Popinot bowed and departed. At the 


312 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


foot of the stairs, Popinot’s legs were still trembling like 
pipe-stems beneath him. 

“ Is that a man?” he said to Pillerault. 

“They say so,” returned the veteran. “ Never forget 
this short interview, Anselme. You have just seen 
finance stripped of its captivating mask. Unlooked-for 
events are the screw of the wine-press, we are the 
grapes, and bankers are the barrels which catch the 
drippings. The affair of the land is doubtless a good 
one, and Gigonnet, or some one behind him, is trying to 
choke Cesar off, that he may dress himself in his skin. 
But it is all over now, and there is no help for it. Such 
are banks and bankers, never have recourse to them !” 

After a frightful morning, in which, for the first time, 
Madame Birotteau took the addresses of those who 
came for their money, and sent back the messenger of 
the bank without paying him, the courageous woman, 
happy to have spared her husband these afflictions, saw, 
at eleven o’clock, Anselme and Pillerault, whom she had 
waited for with growing anxiety, return ; she read the 
sentence upon their countenances. The handing in of 
the fatal balance sheet was inevitable. 

“ He will die of grief,” said the unhappy woman. 

“ I trust he may,” Pillerault gravely replied ; “ but 
he is so religious, that under present circumstances, his 
spiritual adviser, the abbe Loraux, alone can save him.” 

Pillerault, Popinot and Constance waited while a clerk 
went to summon the abbe Loraux before presenting the 
papers Celestin was preparing for Cesar to sign. The 
clerks were sincerely grieved, for they loved their mas- 
ter. The good priest arrived at four o’clock. Constance 
acquainted him with the calamity which overwhelmed 
them, and the abbe mounted’like a soldier to the breach. 

“ I know why you have come,” cried Birotteau. 


OF CESAK BIROTTEAU. 


313 


“ My son,” said the priest, “your sentiments of resig- 
nation to the divine will have long been known to me ; 
but you must now apply them ; fix your eyes upon the 
cross and remember the humiliations with which the 
Saviour’s cup was filled to overflowing. Contemplate the 
anguish of his passion, and you will be better able to 
• support the chastisement which God inflicts upon you.” 

“My brother, the abbe, had already prepared me,” 
said Cesar, showing him the letter which he had read a 
second time, and which he now handed to his confessor. 

“ You have a good brother,” said Monsieur Loraux, 
“a virtuous and tender wife, an affectionate daughter, 
two true friends, your uncle and the excellent Anselme, 
and two indulgent creditors, the Ragons ; they will all 
of them, in their goodness of heart, pour balm upon 
your wounds, and will aid you to bear your crass. 
Promise me to have the firmness of a martyr, and to look 
the calamity in the face without blenching.” 

The abbe coughed to summon Pillerault, who was in 
the parlor. 

“ My resignation has no limit,” said Cesar, calmly. 
“ Dishonor has come, I must henceforth think only of 
reparation.” 

The poor perfumer’s voice and manner surprised 
Constance and the priest. Nothing could be more nat- 
ural, however. Any man will support a known, definite 
misfortune better than the cruel alternative of excessive 
joy and extreme affliction. 

“ I have been dreaming for twenty-two years, and I 
wake again to-day with my staff in my hand,” said 
Cesar, who was once more the peasant of Touraine. 

On hearing these words, Pillerault pressed his nephew 
in his arms. Cesar perceived his wife, Anselme and 
Celestin. The papers which the head clerk held in his 


314 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


hand were significant indeed. Cesar looked calmly at 
this group of which every countenance was sad but 
friendly. 

“Wait a moment!” he said, detaching the cross of 
the Legion of Honor, and giving it to the abbe Loraux, 
“you will return it to me when I can wear it without 
shame. Celestin,” he added, addressing the head clerk, 
“ write me a form of resignation as deputy-mayor. The 
abbe will dictate it to you, you will date it the fourteenth, 
and have Raguet take it to M. de la Billardiere.” 

Celestin and the abbe Loraux went down. For about 
a quarter of an hour, a profound silence reigned in 
Cesar’s little room. His firmness surprised the family. 
Celestin and the abbe returned, and Cesar signed his 
resignation. When his uncle Pillerault presented the 
balance sheet, the unhappy man could not repress a hor- 
rible shudder. 

“May God take pity on me!” he said, as he signed 
the terrible document and handed it to Celestin. 

“ Sir,” said Anselme Popinot, over whose clouded 
brow there passed a flash of sudden light, “ Madame, do 
me the honor of granting me the hand of Mademoiselle 
Cesarine !” 

This request brought tears to the eyes of all who 
heard it, except Cesar, who arose, took Anselme’s hand 
and said in a hollow voice, “ My son you shall never 
marry the daughter of a bankrupt.” 

Anselme looked Birotteau full in the face, and said, 
“ Will you promise, sir, in the presence of your family, 
to consent to our marriage, if Mademoiselle accepts me 
for her husband, on the day when your failure shall be 
redeemed ?” 

There was a moment of silence, during which all were 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


315 


affected by the sensations that were reflected upon the 
perfumer’s dejected face. 

Cesarine held out her hand to Anselme, which he 
made an indescribable gesture to seize, and then to kiss. 

“ Do you consent, too ?” he asked. 

“ Yes,” she replied. 

“ At last I belong to the family, and have a right to 
take an interest in its affairs,” he said, with a singular 
expression of countenance. 

Anselme rushed precipitately out, the better to conceal 
a joy too much in contrast with the grief of his master. 
Anselme was not exactly glad of the failure, but then 
love is so absolute, so selfish ! Cesarine herself felt an 
emotion in her heart which was at war with her bitter 
sadness. 

“ Now that we’ve begun,” said Pillerault in Constance’s 
ear, “ suppose we finish matters up.” 

Madame Birotteau made a movement of grief and not 
of assent. 

“ Nephew,” said Pillerault to Cesar, “ what do you 
intend to do ?” 

“ Continue my business.” 

“I don’t agree with you,” returned Pillerault. “ Liq- 
uidate and divide your assets among your creditors, and 
show yourself no more in the Paris market. I have 
often imagined myself in a position similar to yours. 
(Ah, in trade, we must be prepared for everything ! 
The merchant who never thinks of failure is like a gen- 
eral who never thinks of defeat ; he is only a merchant 
by halves.) In your situation, I should never have gone 
on. What ! Be condemned to blush before the men I 
had wronged, receive their glances of distrust and their 
tacit reproaches ! I can conceive of the guillotine ; all 
is over in an instant. But to have a head continually 


316 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


growing and as continually cut off, is an agony I should 
have avoided. Many men resume business as if nothing 
whatever had happened ! Very good, if it suits them, 
but they are stronger than Claude-Joseph Pillerault ! 
If you do a cash business — and you must — they will say 
you have contrived to keep certain resources ; and if you 
have no resources, you can never recover. So good-bye 
to that ! Give up your assets, sell out your stock, and 
do something else.” 

“ And what, pray ?” asked Cesar. 

“Try and get a place,” said Pillerault. “ You know 
several persons of influence, — the Duke and Duchess de 
Lenoncourt, Madame de Mortsauf, Monsieur de Vande- 
nesse ; write to them, see them, they will get you a post 
in the king’s household, with some three thousand 
francs a year ; your wife can earn as much, perhaps 
your daughter, too. Your position is not a desperate one. 
You three together will make not far from ten thousand 
francs a year. In ten years you can pay one hundred 
thousand francs, for you will not spend a sou of your 
earnings, for your wife and daughter will have fifteen 
hundred francs from me for their expenses, and as to 
you, we’ll see another time !” 

Constance, but not Cesar, reflected upon this judi- 
cious advice. Pillerault walked towards the Exchange, 
then held in a temporary wooden building forming a 
round hall, the entrance to which was on the Rue 
Feydeau. 

The failure of the perfumer, a man so conspicuous 
and so much envied, was already known, and excited 
a general talk in the upper circles of trade, which, at 
that period, were constitutional in their politics. The 
liberal traders saw, in Birotteau’s ball, an audacious 
invasion of their sentiments. The opposition desired 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


317 


the monopoly of love of country. They were willing 
the royalists should love the king, but loving the 
country was the privilege of the Left, to which the 
people belonged. The government had been wrong to 
rejoice, through its organs, at an event of which the lib- 
erals were determined to have the exclusive use. The 
downfall of a protege of the palace, of a partisan of the 
ministry, of an incorrigible royalist, who, on the 13 
Vendemiaire, had insulted liberty by fighting against 
the glorious French Revolution, such a downfall excited 
the gossip and the applause of the Exchange. Pillerault 
desired to learn what the general opinion was. He saw 
in one of the most animated groups, du Tillet, Goben- 
heim-Keller, Nucingen, old Guillaume and his son-in- 
law, Joseph Lebas, Claparon, Gigonnet, Mongenod, 
Camusot, Gobseck, Adolphe Keller, Palma, Chiffreville, 
Matifat, Grindot and Lourdois. 

“ Well, well, what prudence a man must exercise,” 
said Gobenheim to du Tillet, “ my brothers-in-law were 
within an ace of giving Birotteau a credit !” 

“ I am in for ten thousand francs that he asked of me 
a fortnight ago, and I gave them to him on his bare sig- 
nature,’’ said du Tillet. “But he obliged me not long 
ago, and I do not regret losing them.” 

“ He has done like everybody else, your nephew has,” 
said Lourdois to Pillerault, “ he’s been giving balls ! I 
can understand a rascal’s trying to throw dust into peo- 
ple’s eyes to stimulate their confidence, but the idea of a 
man who passed for the verv cream of honesty, having 
recourse to such old humbug dodges by which we are 
invariably caught !” 

“ Like leeches,” said Gobseck. 

“ Don’t trust any but those who live in holes, like 
Claparon,” said Gigonnet. 


318 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


“ Ah ha /” said the fat baron Nucingen to du Tillet, 
“you dry for to blay be ein drick ven you send me Piroddot. 
I donno how it vasfi he added, turning towards Goben- 
heim the manufacturer, he no send to get dem fifty dousand 
francs j I should hab giff 'em , ya !" 

“ Oh no, baron,” said Joseph Lebas, “you must have 
known that the bank had refused his paper, you caused 
it to be thrown out by the discount board. The failure 
of this poor man, for whom I still profess the greatest 
esteem, presents some singular features.” 

Pillerault grasped the hand of Joseph Lebas. 

. “ It is really impossible,” said Mongenod, “to explain 
what has happened unless we suppose that there are 
capitalists behind Gigonnet, who want to kill off the 
affair of the Madeleine lots.” 

“ What has happened to him will happen to all who 
leave their particular line of business,” said Claparon, 
interrupting Mongenod. “ If he had pushed his 
Cephalic Oil himself instead of rushing at these lands 
and thus running up the price, he would have lost his 
hundred thousand francs at Roguin’s, but he would not 
have failed. He is going to continue under the name of 
Popinot.” 

“ Look out for Popinot,” said Gigonnet. 

Roguin, according to this group of traders, was the 
unfortunate Roguin , the perfumer, that poor Birotteau. 
The one seemed excusable on account of his terrible 
passion, the other more guilty on account of his preten- 
sions. On leaving the Exchange, Gigonnet went to the 
Rue Perrin Gasselin, before returning to the Rue Grene- 
tat and stopped to see Madame Madou, the dealer in 
dried fruit. 

“ Well, Mother Plump,” he said, in his tauntingly 
friendly way, “ how’s business ?” 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


319 


“ Rather flat,” said Madame Madou, respectfully, pre- 
senting her only chair to the usurer, with an affectionate 
servility which she had never shown except to the dear 
deceased. 

Madame Madou, who would knock over a refractory 
or too frolicsome cartman, who would not have been 
afraid to go to the siege of the Tuileries on the ioth of 
October, who railed at her best customers, who would 
not have trembled while addressing the king in the 
name of the market-women, Angelique Madou received 
Gigonnet with profound respect. She had no strength 
in his presence, and cowered beneath his searching 
glance. The people will long tremble before the execu- 
tioner, and Gigonnet was the executioner of this par- 
ticular trade. At the markets • no power is held in 
greater respect than that which fixes the rate of dis- 
count. Other human institutions are nothing compared 
with it. Justice herself is personified in the market- 
people’s eyes by the commissary, an individual with 
whom they become familiar. But usury, seated behind 
its green paper boxes, usury implored with fear at one’s 
very heart, usury withers the jest upon the lip, dries up 
the throat, quenches the fire of the eye and renders the 
people respectful. 

“ Is there anything you would like of me, sir ?” she said. 

“ Oh, nothing, a mere trifle ; hold yourself ready to 
pay Birotteau’s notes, the poor wretch has failed, and 
every sou may legally be claimed. I’ll send you the 
figuring up to-morning morning.” 

The eyes of Madame Madou became at first fixed like 
those of a cat, then vomited forth flames. 

“Ah, the villain! Ah, the scoundrel! He came 
himself and said he was deputy and told big stories. 
By the living jingo, so that’s what trade’s come to, is it ? 


320 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


There’s no more truth in mayors, and the government’s 
cheating us. Wait a moment, I’ll just go and pay 
myself — ” 

“Well, my dear, in such affairs as these everybody 
manages the best way he can,” said Gigonnet, lifting his 
leg like a cat going over a puddle — a peculiarity of his, 
and one to which he owed his nickname “ There are 
one or two big bugs that are trying to get their little 
matters out of the scrape.” 

“ Good ! I’ll go and get my nuts out. Mary Jane ! 
Bring me my wooden shoes and my rabbit-skin cash- 
mere, and quick, too, or I’ll hit you a clip on the cheek 
with my bunch of fives.” 

“ There’ll be a rumpus up street,” said Gigonnet, rub- 
bing his hands. “Du Tillet’ll be glad of it ; it’ll make 
a nice scandal in the neighborhood. I can’t imagine 
what this poor devil of a perfumer has done to him ; as 
for me I pity him as I would a dog that has broken his 
paw. He isn’t a man, he hasn’t got the strength.” 

Madame Madou brought up, like an insurrection of 
the Faubourg Saint Antoine, towards seven in the even- 
ing, at the unhappy Birotteau’s door, which she opened 
with extreme violence, for the walk had raised her 
spirits still higher. 

“ Here, you nest of vermin, I want my money, give 
me my money ! You’d better give me my money, or 
I’ll carry off scent-bags and fans and satin jiggamarees 
enough to pay my two thousand francs ? When were 
mayors ever known before to rob their constituents ? If 
yom don’t pay me, I’ll send him to the galleys ; I’m 
going to see the prosecuting attorney, and I’ll let loose 
the whole rattletyrow of justice on you. I don’t leave 
here without my money, there’s the long and short 
of it !” 


OF CESAR BIROTTEATT. 


321 


She made a movement to lift the glass top of a 
counter containing many valuable articles. 

“ La Madou prend,”* whispered Celestin to his neigh- 
bor. 

The market woman heard the jest, for, in paroxysms 
of rage, the organs are paralyzed or brought to perfec- 
tion, according to temperament, and she dealt Celestin’s 
ear the most vigorous blow ever given in a perfumery 
shop. 

“ That’ll teach you to be respectful to women, my 
angel/’ said she, “and not to make free with the names 
of people you rob.” 

“ Madame,” said Madame Birotteau, coming out of 
the back-shop, where she left her husband, whom Piller- 
ault was trying to take home with him, and who, to 
obey the letter of the law, carried his humility so far 
as to ask to go to prison ; “ madame, in heaven’s name 
do not gather a crowd at the door.” 

“ Oh, let ’em come in, I’ll tell ’em the joke and we’ll 
have a good laugh ! Yes, my property and my money, 
scraped up by the sweat of my brow, are used to give 
balls with ! Here you are dressed like a queen of 
France with the wool shorn off poor lambkins like me ! 
My saints alive ! Stolen clothes would burn my shoul- 
ders ! I haven’t got nothing but rabbit-skin on my car- 
cass, but its mine ! Brigands and thieves, give me my 
money or — ” 

She jumped at a handsome inlaid box containing 
costly toilet articles. 

“ Don’t touch that, madame,” said Cesar, coming in, 

* There is a play upon words here : La Madou prend , Mother 
Madou is taking things, and L' amadou prend t the tinder is 
catching fire. 


322 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


“ nothing here belongs to me ; everything is the prop- 
erty of my creditors. I own nothing but my person, 
and if you wish to seize that and put me in prison, I 
give you my word of honor (a tear trickled from his 
eyes) that I will wait for the sheriff, the tipstaff and his 
officers !” 

Cesar’s tone and gestures, which" harmonized with his 
action, somewhat appeased Madame Madou’s anger. 

“ My resources have been carried away by a notary, 
I am innocent of the disasters I have caused,’’ resumed 
Cesar ; “ but you shall be paid in the course of time, 
though I die in the effort, and work like a day-laborer 
at the markets, at the trade of a porter !” 

“ After all, you are an honorable man,” said the 
market woman. “ Excuse what I said, madame ; but I 
shall have to drown myself, for Gigonnet will sue me, 
and I’ve got nothing but notes at ten months to redeem 
your cursed paper with.” 

“ Call on me to-morrow morning,” said Pillerault, 
making his appearance, “I will try to get them dis- 
counted by one of my friends, at five per cent.” 

“ Hallo ! it’s that fine old Pillerault ! Now I think 
of it, he’s your uncle,” she said to Constance. “Well, 
well, I believe you are honest, and I shan’t lose anything, 
shall I ? I’ll be on hand to-morrow, old boy !” and she 
saluted the ex-ironmonger. 

Cesar insisted upon remaining in the midst of his ruin, 
saying that he could thus explain matters to all his 
creditors. In spite of the supplications of his niece, 
Pillerault appeared to approve Cesar’s design, and made 
him go up-stairs. The shrewd old gentleman then hur- 
ried to Monsieur Haudry’s, told him what Birotteau’s 
position was, obtained a prescription for a soporific 
potion, ordered it himself, and returned to pass the 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


323 


evening at his nephew’s. Assisted by Cesarine, he forced 
Cesar to drink as they did. The narcotic put the per- 
fumer to sleep, and he woke up fourteen hours after- 
wards, in his uncle Pillerault’s room, in the Rue des 
Bourdonnais. The old man, who slept upon a shake- 
down in the parlor, was his jailer. When Constance 
heard the carriage, in which Pillerault was removing 
Cesar, roll away, her courage left her. Our strength 
is often kept up by the necessity of sustaining another 
more feeble than ourselves. The poor woman wept to 
find herself alone with her daughter, as she would have 
wept if Cesar had been dead. 

“ Mother,” said Cesarine, seating herself in her lap, 
and fondling her with those caresses which women dis- 
play the best among themselves, “ you told me that if I 
bravely made up my mind to the worst, you would find 
strength against adversity. Then don’t weep, dear 
mother. I am ready to go into some store, and I will 
think no more of what we were. I will be like you in 
your youth, a head shop-girl, and you shall never hear 
a word of complaint or regret. I have hopes. Did you 
not hear what Monsieur Popinot said ?” 

“ Excellent young man ! He shall not be my son-in- 
law — ” 

“ Oh, mother !” 

“ But my son in good earnest.” 

“ Misfortune,” said Cesarine, kissing her mother, 
“ has one advantage; it teaches us to know our true 
friends.” 

Cesarine at last calmed the grief of the afflicted woman, 
by enacting with her the part of a mother. The next 
morning, Constance went to the Duke de Lenoncourt’s, 
one of the first gentlemen of the king’s bed-chamber, 
and left a letter, in which she asked an audience at a 


324 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


certain hour of the day. In the meantime, she called 
upon Monsieur de la Billardiere, stated to' him in what 
position the notary’s flight had placed Cesar, begged 
him to interest the duke in her behalf and to speak for 
her, as she was afraid she had expressed herself badly. 
She desired a place for Birotteau. He would be the 
most honest of accountants, if degrees in honesty were 
possible. 

“ The king has just appointed the Count de Fontaine 
to one of the general directorships in his household, so 
there is no time to lose.” 

At two o’clock, la Billardiere and Madame Cesar 
ascended the grand staircase of the hotel de Lenoncourt, 
in the Rue St. Dominique, and were introduced to the 
king’s favorite gentleman, if, indeed, Louis XVIII ever 
had any preferences. The gracious welcome of this 
grand seigneur, who belonged to the small number of 
true gentlemen whom the last century left the present, 
allowed Madame Cesar to hope. The perfumer’s wife 
was grand and simple in her affliction. Sorrow ennobles 
the mose ordinary persons, for it has its grandeur, and 
they have but to be unaffected to receive lustre from it. 
Constance was a truly unaffected woman. It would be 
necessary, said the duke, to speak immediately to the 
king. 

In the midst of the conference, Monsieur de Vande- 
nesse was announced, and the duke exclaimed, “ Here is 
your preserver !” 

Madame Birotteau was not altogether unknown to 
this young man, who had called once or twice- at the 
shop to purchase those trifles which are often as neces- 
sary as much’ more considerable articles. The duke 
stated to him la Billardiere’s purpose. On learning the 
misfortune which had befallen the godson of the Mar- 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


325 


chioness d’Uxelles, Vandenesse went immediately with 
la Billardiere to the Count de Fontaine’s, begging 
Madame Birotteau to wait for him. The Count de Fon- 
taine was, like la Billardiere, one of those brave country 
gentlemen, those almost unknown heroes, who had gone 
through the campaign of la Vendee. Birotteau was not 
a stranger to him, as he had seen him at the Queen of 
Roses. Those who had shed their blood for the royal 
cause enjoyed, at this period, privileges which the king 
kept secret, in order not to irritate the liberals. 

Monsieur de Fontaine, one of the favorites of Louis 
XVIII, was believed to enjoy his entire confidence. The 
count not only positively promised a place, but he went 
to the Duke de Lenoncourt, then on duty, to beg him 
to obtain him a moment’s hearing, during the evening, 
and to ask an audience for la Billardiere of the king’s 
brother, who was particularly fond of that ex-diplomatist 
of la Vendee. 

That same evening, the Count de Fontaine went from 
the Tuileries to Madame Birotteau’s, to inform her that 
her husband, after his settlement with his creditors, 
would be officially appointed to a clerkship, worth 
twenty-five hundred francs a year, in the office of the 
Sinking Fund, all the places in the king’s household 
being filled by noble pensioners with whom engage- 
ments had been entered into. 

This success was but a part of Madame Birotteau’s 
task. She went to the Rue Saint Denis, to call upon 
Joseph Lebas, at the Cat and Battledore. On her way 
thither, she met Madame Roguin in a brilliant equipage, 
doubtless out upon a shopping excursion. Her eyes met 
those of the beautiful notaress. The blush which the 
rich lady could not repress, as she saw the impoverished 
woman, gave Constance courage. 


326 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


“ Never will I drive my carriage with ill-gotten 
means,” she said to herself. 

Kindly received by Joseph Lebas, she besought him 
to obtain her daughter a place in some respectable store. 
Lebas made no promises, but a week afterwards Cesa- 
rine was established with her board and lodgings, and a 
salary of three thousand francs a year, in the richest 
fancy goods house in Paris, the proprietors of which 
were founding a new branch in the neighborhood of the 
Italian Opera. The perfumer’s daughter received the 
money and superintended the shop, and, being placed 
over the head shop-girl, took the place of the master and 
mistress in their absence. 

As to Madame Cesar, she went the same day to Popi- 
not’s and begged him to allow her to keep his books 
and accounts and to do the household service. Popinot 
saw that his house was the only one in which the per- 
fumer’s wife would have the respect which was due to 
her, and a position free from humiliations. The worthy 
young man gave her three thousand francs a year, her 
board, his own room which he fitted up for her, taking 
for himself the garret of one of the clerks. Thus the 
fair tradeswoman, after having enjoyed the sumptuous 
splendors of her rooms for just one month, was com- 
pelled to dwell in the frightful chamber looking upon 
the gloomy and noisome court, in which Gaudissart, 
Anselme and Finot had inaugurated the Cephalic Oil. 

When Molineux, appointed agent by the tribunal of 
commerce, came to take possession of Cesar’s assets, Con- 
stance, assisted by Celestin, went over the inventory 
with him. Then the mother and daughter, simply 
dressed, went out on foot, and repaired, without once 
looking back, to their uncle Pillerault’s, after having 
lived in t^e house they were quitting, one third of their 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


327 


life. They proceeded in silence towards the Rue des 
Bourdonnais, where they dined with Cesar for the first 
time since their separation. It was a sad meal. Each 
of them had had time to reflect, to measure the extent 
of their obligations, and to sound the depths of their 
courage. All three were like sailors prepared to 
struggle with the storm, without forgetting the danger. 
Birotteau took heart on learning with what solicitude 
men of high rank had arranged his means of livelihood ; 
but he wept when he knew what was to be his daughter’s 
lot. Then he extended his hand to his wife, admiring 
the courage with which she recommenced her labor. 
For the last time in his life, Pillerault’s eyes moistened 
at the sight of these three united beings, mingled in one 
embrace, the middle figure of which, Birotteau, the 
weakest and most dejected of the three, raised his hand 
and said, 4 Hope on, hope ever !” 

44 For economy’s sake,” said the uncle to Cesar, 44 you 
will live with me ; keep my chamber and share my 
bread. I have felt alone here for a long time, you shall 
take the place of the child that I lost. It is but a step 
from here to your office in the Rue del’ Oratoire.” 

44 O God of mercy !” exclaimed Birotteau, 44 in the 
height of the storm a star is my guide.” 

When a man resigns himself to his fate, he brings his 
misfortunes to an end. Birotteau’s fall was now con- 
summated, he had given his consent, and he became 
strong again.* 

* The translators have thought proper to omit here a passage 
explaining, in language exclusively technical, the formalities of the 
French bankrupt laws. It has no connection with the thread of 
the narrative, and would be altogether unintelligible to the Ameri- 
can reader. 


328 THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 

Thus there are two species of failure ; the failure of 
the merchant who resolves upon continuing business, 
and that of him who, having fallen into the water, con- 
tentedly goes to the bottom. Pillerault well understood 
this difference. In his opinion as well as in Ragon’s, 
it was as difficult to come pure out of the first as to 
come rich out of the second. After having advised a 
total abandonment of his commercial life, he applied to 
the most honest attorney in Paris to liquidate the estate 
and hand over the assets to be disposed of by the credi- 
tors. The law requires the creditors, during the per- 
formance of this drama, to furnish the bankrupt and his 
family with food. Pillerault informed the commissary- 
judge that he himself would attend to the needs of his 
nephew and niece. 

Every possible measure had been taken by du Tillet 
to render his failure an ever-present agony to his former 
employer. He accomplished his purpose thus. Time 
is so valuable at Paris that only one syndic, out of the 
two appointed, in a failure, usually gives his personal 
attention to the matter. The other is a mere matter of 
form ; he appends his signature, like the second notary 
in papers requiring notarial attestation. And even the 
syndic who acts quite often trusts entirely to the attor- 
ney. By this means, the heaviest failures at Paris are 
carried through so promptly, that everything, within the 
period prescribed by law, is botched up, tied up, fixed 
up and served up ! In a hundred days the commissary- 
^judge may repeat the atrocious expression of an atro- 
cious minister : Order reigns in Warsaw. 

Du Tillet desired the commercial death of the per- 
fumer. The very names of the syndics appointed 


OF CESAR BIROTTEATT. 


329 


through du Tillet’s influence were therefore significant 
to Pillerault. Monsieur Bidault, familiarly called Gigon- 
net, the heaviest creditor, was to do none of the work ; 
Molineux, the worrying little old man who never lost 
anything, was to do all the work. Du Tibet had tossed 
this noble commercial corpse to this ignoble jackal, to 
torment as he devoured it. After the meeting at which 
the creditors appointed the syndics, Molineux went 
home, “ honored,” as he said, “ by the suffrages of his 
fellow citizens,” as happy in having Birotteau to dom- 
ineer over, as a child is in teasing an insect. This landed 
proprietor, so punctilious in law matters, begged du 
Tibet to lend him the light of his experience, and he 
bought a copy of the Code of Commerce. Fortunately, 
Joseph Lebas, instigated by Pillerault, had, at the very 
outset, induced the president of the tribunal to appoint 
a sagacious and benevolent judge-commissary, Instead 
of Gobenheim-Keber, whom du Tibet had hoped to 
obtain, the president appointed Monsieur Camusot, an 
assistant-judge, a rich silk-mercer of liberal opinions, 
the owner of the house in which Pillerault lived, and a 
man of honorable reputation. 

One of the most painful episodes of Cesar’s life was 
his forced conference with little Molineux, a being whom 
he regarded as absolutely nub and void, and who, by a 
fiction of the law, had become Cesar Birotteau. He 
went, accompanied by his uncle, to the Cour Batave, 
ascended the six pairs of stairs, and entered, once more, 
the miserable rooms of the old man who was now his 
guardian, almost his judge, and the representative of 
the bulk of his creditors. 

“What’s the matter?” said Pillerault to Cesar, *as 
the latter gave vent to his feelings. 


330 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


“Ah ! uncle, you have no idea what a man this Moli- 
neux is !” 

“ I have seen him from time to time at the cafe David, 
for the last fifteen years, where he plays dominos in the 
evening ; that’s why I came with you.” 

Monsieur Molineux was excessively polite to Pillerault 
and disdainfully condescending to the bankrupt. The 
little old man had planned out his course, studied the 
shades and niceties of his demeanor, and prepared his 
very ideas. 

“ What information do you desire ?” said Pillerault. 
“ We do not contest any of the claims against us.” 

“ Oh,” said Molineux, “ the claims are all right, every- 
thing has been verified. The creditors are genuine and 
legal. But the law, sir ! the law ! The bankrupt’s 
expenses were out of all proportion with his means. It 
is clear that the ball — ” 

“At which you were present,” interrupted Pillerault. 

“ Cost hard upon sixty thousand francs, or that sum 
was spent on that occasion ; while the bankrupt’s assets 
then amounted only to a hundred and odd thousand 
francs. There is ground, therefore, for carrying the 
bankrupt before a special court upon a charge of simple 
bankruptcy.” 

“ Is that your opinion ?” said Pillerault, seeing Birot- 
teau’s dejection at these words. 

“ I make a distinction, sir ; the man Birotteau was a 
municipal officer—” 

“ It is not likely you have asked us here to inform us 
that we are to be brought before a police court ?” said 
Pillerault. “ The whole cafe David would laugh at 
your conduct to-night.” 

The opinion of the cafe David seemed greatly to 
alarm the little old man, who looked at Pillerault 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


331 


uneasily. The syndic had expected to see Birotteau 
alone, and had looked forward to taking up his position 
as sovereign arbiter, a perfect Jupiter. He hoped to 
frighten Birotteau by the terrible inquisitorial examina- 
tion he had prepared, to brandish over his head the 
judicial axe, to enjoy his terrors and fears, and finally 
to allow himself to be melted to compassion, and make 
his victim forever after grateful. Instead of the insect 
he had expected, he found himself in contact with an 
old commercial sphynx — a model of prudence and 
wisdom. 

“ Sir,” he said, “ this is no time to laugh.” 

“ Excuse me,” said Pillerault. “You make very 
favorable terms with Monsieur Claparon ; you abandon 
the interests of the mass in order to get a decision that 
you shall have a privilege for your own share. Now, 
as a creditor, I can interfere. Remember the commis- 
sary-judge.” 

“Sir,” said Molineux, “ I am incorruptible.” 

“I know it,” returned Pillerault; “you have only 
taken care to save your own bacon, as the saying is. 
But in what can we enlighten you, relative to our 
affairs ?” 

“ I wish to know,” said Molineux, with all the 
emphasis of his authority, “whether Monsieur Birotteau 
has received money from Monsieur Popinot.” 

“ I have not,” said Birotteau. 

A discussion followed upon Birotteau’s interest in the 
house of Popinot, the result of which was that it was 
Popinot’s right to be paid in full for his advances, with- 
out being involved in the failure for Birotteau’s half of 
the expenses of setting up the establishment. Molineux, 
skilfully manipulated by Pillerault, returned impercep- 
tibly to gentler views, which showed how jealous he 


332 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


was of the good opinion of the frequenters of the cafe 
David. He finally condescended to condole with Birot- 
teau and to ask him and Pillerault to partake of his 
humble dinner. If the ex-perfumer had come alone, he 
would perhaps have irritated Molineux by the tone of 
his refusal, and the affair might have been the worst for 
it. On this occasion, as on several others, old Pillerault 
was a tutelary angel. 

The commercial law imposes one formidable trial 
upon bankrupts ; they are required to appear, in 
person, with their provisional syndics and their com- 
missary-judge, at the meeting of creditors where 
their fate is decided on. This melancholy ceremony 
is, perhaps, little to be dreaded by a man who is indif- 
ferent to the result, or by a merchant who desires an 
opportunity to begin again. But for a man like 
Cesar Birotteau, such a scene is a torture to which noth- 
ing can be compared except the last hours of the crim- 
inal condemned to death. Pillerault did everything in 
his power to enable his nephew to get through this hor- 
rible day. 

The operations of Molineux, agreed to by Birotteau, 
were as follows : The suit relative to the lands situated 
in the Faubourg du Temple was won in the royal court. 
The syndics decided to sell this property, and Cesar 
made no objection. Du Tillet, informed of a project of 
the government concerning the junction of Saint Denis 
with the upper part of the Seine by a canal, which 
would pass through the Faubourg du Temple, bought 
the land for the sum of seventy thousand francs. Cesar’s 
entire part and lot in the Madeleine lands was given up 
to Monsieur Claparon, on the condition that he, in his 
turn, should abandon all claims relative to Birotteau’s 
unpaid half of the registry and notary fees, Claparon to 


OF CESAR BIROTTEATJ. 


333 


pay, also, the price of the lands, on receiving, from the 
product of the estate, the dividend accruing to the sellers. 
The perfumer’s interest in the house of A. Popinot & 
Co. was sold to the said Popinot for the sum of forty- 
eight thousand francs. The stock and good-will of the 
Queen of Roses was bought by Celestin Crevel for fifty- 
seven thousand francs, with the right to the lease, the 
wares, furniture, the ownership of the Sultana Paste and 
Carminative Water, and a twelve years lease of the 
factory, the tools and utensils of which were likewise 
sold to him. The assets, therefore, amounted to one 
hundred and seventy-five thousand francs, to which the 
syndics added seventy thousand more, the proceeds of 
Birotteau’s share in the liquidation of the unfortunate 
Roguin. Thus the total reached the sum of two hun- 
dred and forty-five thousand francs. The liabilities 
amounted to four hundred and forty thousand, so the 
estate would pay more than fifty per cent. 

Failure is, as it were, a chemical operation, from which 
a skilful tradesman seeks to come out fat. Birotteau, 
distilled whole in this vessel, yielded a result which 
enraged du Tillet. He believed the failure would be a 
disgraceful one, whereas it turned out honorable. Care- 
less of his profits, for he would obtain the Madeleine 
lands without drawing his purse strings, he ached to see 
this poor retail trader dishonored, ruined, defamed. The 
creditors, at their general meeting, would doubtless 
carry the .perfumer in triumph. 

As Birotteau’s courage returned, his uncle, like a 
cautious physician, gradually initiated him, by increas- 
ing doses, into the operations of the syndics. Their 
violent measures were to him so many blows. A 
merchant is always grieved to learn the depreciation of 
things which, to him, represent so much money and so 


334 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


much care. The news communicated by his uncle pet- 
rified him. 

“ The Queen of Roses gone for fifty-seven thousand 
francs ! Why, the shop cost ten thousand francs ; the 
rooms cost forty thousand ; the accessories of the fac- 
tory, the utensils, the moulds, the boilers, cost thirty 
thousand francs ; even at fifty per cent, off, there are ten 
thousand francs worth of goods in the shop ; and as for 
the Paste and the Water, they are worth a whole farm !” 

These jeremiads of the ruined perfumer did not ter- 
rify Pillerault much. The old ironmonger listened to 
them as a horse receives a shower while waiting at a 
door, but he was alarmed at Birotteau’s gloomy silence 
when the meeting of the creditors was mentioned. All 
who understand the weaknesses and vanities which beset 
mankind in every social sphere, will see what a horrible 
penalty it was for this poor man to enter, a bankrupt, the 
commercial palace where he had so often sat as judge ; 
to be insulted on the very spot where he had been so 
often thanked for services he had rendered. Especially 
for Birotteau, whose inflexible opinions on the subject of 
bankrupts were known to every tradesman in Paris, and 
who had once said, “ A man may be honest when he hands 
in his balance, but he leaves the meeting of his creditors 
a rascal !” His uncle chose favorable moments to famil- 
iarize him with the idea of appearing before his assem- 
bled creditors, as the law required. This necessity was 
killing Birotteau. His mute resignation .painfully 
impressed Pillerault, who often heard him exclaim, 
through the partition at night, “ Never ! never ! I should 
die first.” 

Pillerault, strong as he was in the very simplicity of 
his life, knew what it was to be weak. He resolved to 
spare Birotteau an anguish which might kill him, in the 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


335 


terrible scene of his appearance before his creditors — 
an inevitable scene, for the law upon this point is formal, 
precise, peremptory. The trader who refuses to appear, 
may, for this act alone, be carried before a police court 
upon a charge of simple bankruptcy. But if the law 
compels the bankrupt to be present, it has not the power 
to compel the creditor to be so. A meeting of creditors 
is not an important ceremony except in certain determin- 
ate cases ; for instance, when it becomes necessary to 
dispossess a scoundrel and to enter into a bond of union 
against him, when there is a difference of opinion between 
favored and non-favored creditors, and when the arrange- 
ment made is unduly unfair, and the bankrupt is in need 
of a doubtful majority. But in the case of a failure where 
everything has been converted into money, as well as in 
that of a failure where even the dishonest tradesman has 
made proper arrangements, the meeting is a mere for- 
mality. Pillerault went to every creditor, one after the 
other, and begged him to sign a power of attorney for 
his representative. Every creditor, except du Tillet, sin- 
cerely pitied Cesar after having crushed him to the 
ground. They all knew what the perfumer’s conduct 
had been, how regular his books were, how straight- 
forward his business was. They were all glad that among 
them there was not a single exulting creditor. 

Molineux, at first agent, afterwards syndic, had found 
everything that Cesar possessed at his house, even the 
engraving of Hero and Leander, presented by Popinot, 
his jewelry, his breastpin, his gold buckles, his two 
watches — articles that an honest man might have 
removed without considering that he was violating any 
rule of probity. Constance had left her modest jewels. 
This touching obedience to the law made a deep impres- 
sion on all classes engaged in trade. Birotteau’s 


336 


THE GEEATNESS AND DECLINE 


enemies pointed out these circumstances as marks of 
imbecility ; but sensible men looked at them in their 
true light, as a magnificent excess of integrity. Two 
months after the failure the opinion of the Exchange 
was greatly modified. The most indifferent confessed 
that the failure was one of the rarest commercial curi- 
osities ever witnessed in the Paris market. The creditors, 
therefore, knowing that they were to receive nearly sixty 
per cent, did everything that Pillerault asked. There 
are but a very small number of attorneys, so that it 
happened that several creditors gave their power of 
attorney to the same man. Pillerault finally reduced 
this formidable meeting to three attorneys, himself, 
Ragon, the two syndics and the commissary-judge. 

On the morning of the solemn day, Pillerault said to 
his nephew, “ Cesar, you can go without fear to your 
meeting to-day, there’ll be no one there.” 

Monsieur Ragon desired to accompany his debtor. 
When the dry, fluty voice of the ex-master of the Queen 
of Roses was heard, his late successor turned pale ; but 
the kind little old man opened his arms, and Birotteau 
rushed into them, like a child into his father’s embrace, 
and the two perfumers bedewed each other with their 
tears. The bankrupt took courage on finding himself 
so indulgently treated, and got into the carriage with 
his uncle. At precisely half past ten, the three arrived 
at the cloister of Saint Merri, where the tribunal of com- 
merce was then held. At this hour, there was no one 
in the bankrupt’s hall. The day and the hour had 
been selected by agreement with the syndics and the 
commissary-judge. The attorneys were there to act in 
behalf of their clients. There was therefore nothing to 
intimidate Cesar Birotteau. Still it was with profound 
emotion that the poor man entered Camusot’s private 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


337 


room, which, it happened, had been in other days his 
own, and he shuddered at the idea of going to the 
bankrupt’s hall. 

“ It’s a cold day,” said Camusot to Birotteau, “ and I 
dare say these gentlemen will be glad to stay here, 
instead of going and freezing in the hall. (He omitted 
the word bankrupt’s.) Sit down, gentlemen.” 

They all sat down, and the judge gave his chair to 
the confused Birotteau. The attorneys and the syndics 
signed the papers. 

“ In consideration of your abandonment of your prop- 
erty,” said Camusot to Birotteau, “your creditors unan- 
imously remit the balance of their claims ; the act 
embodying your agreement with them is drawn up in 
terms calculated to assuage your sorrow ; your attorney 
will have it speedily recorded, so you are free. All the 
judges of the tribunal, my dear Monsieur Birotteau,” 
said Camusot taking his hands in his, “ sympathize with 
you in your position, without being surprised at your 
courage, and there is not a man who is not ready to do 
justice to your integrity. You show yourself worthy, 
in your misfortunes, of the position you once held here. 
I have been twenty years in trade, and this is the seeond 
time that I have seen a ruined merchant rise in public 
esteem.” 

Birotteau took the judge’s hands and pressed them, 
with tears in his eyes. Camusot asked him what he 
intended to do, and he replied that his purpose was to 
work till he had paid his creditors in full. 

“ If ever you need a few thousand francs, to accom- 
plish so noble a task, you may always have them of me,” 
said Camusot ; “ I would give them with great pleasure, 
to witness an act so rare at Paris.” 

Pillerault, Ragon and Birotteau withdrew. 


338 THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 

“ Well, it was not a very bitter pill, after all.” said 
Pillerault, as they stood upon the threshold. 

“ I recognize your handiwork, uncle,” said the poor 
man, quite overcome. . 

“ So now you are set up again, and as we are only 
two steps from the Rue des Cinq Diamants, come and 
see my nephew,” said Ragon to Cesar. 



It could hardly be otherwise than painful to Birot- 
teau, to see Constance seated in a little office in the low 
and gloomy entre-sol over the shop, in front of which 
ran a sign covering one third of the window and inter- 
cepting the light, thus inscribed : A. Popinot. 

“ There’s one of Alexander’s lieutenants,” said Birot- 
teau with lugubrious gaiety, pointing at the sign. 

This forced cheerfulness, in which the inextinguish- 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


339 


able sentiment of Birotteau’s imaginary superiority 
recurred so complacently, made Ragon almost shudder, 
spite of his seventy years. Cesar saw his wife bringing 
down letters for Popinot to sign ; he could neither 
restrain his tears nor prevent his face from turning 
pale. 

“Good-morning, Cesar,” she said, smiling. 

“ I need not ask you if you are comfortable here,” 
returned Birotteau, looking at Popinot. 

“ I feel that I am at my son’s,” she answered, in a 
tone so touching that it struck the ex-perfumer. 

Birotteau took Popinot’s hand, embraced him and 
said, “I have just lost forever the right to call him my 

_ _ ft 

son. 

“ Let us hope not,” said Popinot. “Your oil does well, 
thanks to my efforts in the papers, and to those of 
Gaudissart, who has. been to every town in France, 
inundated it with bills and circulars, and who is now 
having a German prospectus printed at Strasburg, and 
is going to come down on Germany like an invading 
army. We have disposed of three thousand gross.” 

“ Three thousand gross !” exclaimed Cesar. 

“ And I have bought a piece of land in the Faubourg 
Saint Marceau, cheap, and am building a factory. I 
shall keep that of the Faubourg du Temple, too.” 

“ Wife,” said Birotteau in Constance’s ear, “ with a 
little assistance, we should have weathered the storm.” 

Ever since the fatal day, Cesar, his wife and daughter, 
tacitly understood each other. The poor clerk resolved 
to attain a result, which, if not impossible, was at least 
gigantic — the payment of his debts in full ! These 
three beings, united by the bond of an uncompromising 
probity, became avaricious and denied themselves every 
comfort * the fourth part of a sou seemed to them 


340 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


sacred. Cesarine gave herself up to her duties with the 
devotion of her age. She sat up at night, she invented 
expedients for augmenting the prosperity of the house. 
She made designs for goods, and displayed an innate 
genius for trade. Her employers were obliged to repress 
her zeal for work, and rewarded her by presents and 
favors ; but she refused the ornaments and jewels 
which they offered her. Money ! was her single object. 
She carried her salary and her slender profits every 
month to her uncle Pillerault. Cesar did the same, so 
did Madame Birotteau. All three acknowledging their 
want of capacity, and neither of them being willing to 
assume the responsibility of the management of the 
money, they entrusted Pillerault with the entire control 
and investment of their earnings. Having thus become 
a man of business again, their uncle turned them to 
profit at the Exchange. They learned afterwards that 
he had been assisted in this labor by Jules Desmarets 
and Joseph Lebas, both of whom took pleasure in 
pointing out to him such operations as offered no risk. 

The ex-perfumer, who lived with his uncle, did not 
venture to question him upon the use to which he put 
the sums earned by himself, his daughter and his wife. 
In the street, he walked with his head down, concealing 
from every eye his dejected, abashed, almost stupid 
countenance. Cesar reproached himself for wearing 
broadcloth. 

“ At any rate,” he said with a seraphic air to his 
uncle, “ I do not eat the bread of my creditors. Your 
bread seems sweet though due to the pity I inspire you, 
when I think that, thanks to this holy charity, I need 
not filch from my salary.” 

Tradesmen who met the clerk in the street saw no 
trace of the perfumer. The indifferent conceived a lofty 


OF CESAR BIROTTEATT. 


341 


idea of what the fall of a human being may be, at the 
sight of this man whose face bore the impress of the 
deepest sorrow, and who showed himself overwhelmed 
by what had never struck the observer before, his 
thought! Not every one who seeks destruction can 
have it. Good easy souls, careless and conscienceless, 
can never offer the spectacle of a calamity. Faith alone 
stamps the fallen with its peculiar mark ; they believe 
in a future life, in Providence ; there is, in them, a cer- 
tain light which points them out, an air of holy resigna- 
tion mingled with hope, which is profoundly affecting ; 
they know how much they have lost, like a banished 
angel weeping at the gates of heaven. 

Bankrupts are forbidden to enter the Exchange. 
Cesar, driven from the domain of honesty, was an 
image of the angel sighing for pardon. For fourteen 
months Birotteau, giving himself up to the religious 
thoughts suggested by his fall, refused all pleasure. 
Though sure of the Ragons’ friendship, it was impos- 
sible to induce him to dine with them, or with the 
Lebas, the Matifats, the Protez and Chiffrevilles, or 
even with Monsieur Vauquelin, all of whom were zealous 
to honor, in Cesar, a man of superior virtue. Cesar 
preferred being alone in his room to meeting a creditor’s 
eye. The most cordial attentions of his friends reminded 
him bitterly of his position. Constance and Cesarine 
never w r ent out. On Sundays and holidays, the only 
days they had to themselves, the two women went to 
get Cesar at the hour of mass, and, after having per- 
formed their religious duties, kept him company at 
Pillerault’s. Pillerault invited the abbe Loraux, whose 
conversation sustained Cesar in his life of trials, and 
they made a family party of it. The ex-ironmonger 
was himself too sensitive, on points where probity was 


342 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


concerned, not to approve of Cesar’s scruples. He had 
therefore sought to increase the number of persons 
before whom the bankrupt could appear with a placid 
brow and unquailing eye. 

In May, 1820, this family struggling with adversity 
was rewarded for its efforts by their first holiday, a sur- 
prise prepared for them by the arbiter of their destinies. 
The last Sunday of the month was the anniversary of 
the engagement of Cesar and Constance. Pillerault and 
the Ragons together had hired a small country house 
at Sceaux, and the ironmonger was bent upon having a 
cheerful house-warming. 

“ Cesar,” said Pillerault to his nephew on Saturday 
evening, “ we are going to the country to-morrow, and 
you shall go too.” 

Cesar, whose handwriting was superb, copied docu- 
ments in the evening for Derville and other lawyers. On 
Sunday, too, having obtained permission from the cure, 
he worked like a negro. 

“ No,” he replied, “ Monsieur Derville is waiting for 
an account for a guardian with his ward.” 

“ Your wife and daughter deserve a reward. There 
will be no one there but our friends ; the abbe Loraux, 
the Ragons, Popinot and his uncle. I insist upon it.” 

Cesar and his wife, in the hurry of business, had never 
once been back to Sceaux, though they had both often 
wished to see the tree again under which the head clerk 
of the Queen of Roses had well-nigh fainted away. 
On the way, Cesar being in a carriage with his wife, his 
daughter, and Popinot who treated, Constance cast sun- 
dry looks of intelligence at her husband, but could not 
bring a smile to his lips. She whispered in his ear, he 
nodded his head in reply. Her sweet expressions of an 
affection which, though unchangeable, was somewhat 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU* 


343 


forced, instead of lightening Cesar’s face, made it still 
more gloomy and brought unbidden tears to his eyes. 
The poor man had been over this road twenty years 
before, when rich, young, hopeful, in love with a girl as 
handsome as Cesarine now was. His dreams were then 
of happiness, and now here he was again with his noble 
daughter pallid from overwork, and his long-suffering- 
wife, whose beauty was like that of a city buried under 
the lava of a volcano. Love alone had remained. 
Cesar’s attitude checked the joy which was rising in the 
hearts of his daughter and Anselme, who recalled to his 
memory the charming scene of by-gone days. 

“ Be happy, my children, you have the right to be so,” 
said the wretched father in a heartrending tone. “ You 
can love each other without reproachful memories of the 
past,” he added. 

Birotteau had taken his wife’s hands while saying 
these words, and kissed them with a holy and admiring 
affection which touched Constance more than the live- 
liest gaiety would have done. When they arrived at the 
house where Pillerault, the Ragons, the abbe Loraux 
and Judge Popinot were waiting for them, the 
demeanor, looks and words of those five excellent per- 
sons at once put Cesar at his ease, for they were all 
affected at the sight of this man who could not forget 
his affliction. 

“ Go and take a walk in the woods at Aulnay,” said 
Pillerault, placing Cesar’s hand in those of Constance, 
“go with Anselme and Cesarine ! Return here at four 
o’clock.” 

“ Poor things, we should be in their way,” said Mad- 
ame Ragon, softened by the genuine sorrow of her 
debtor, “ he will be all the more joyous, by and by.” 

“ Repentance without sin,” said the abbe. 


344 THE -GREATNESS AND DECLINE 

“ He could but be chastened and improved by misfor- 
tune,” said the judge. 

Forgetfulness is the great secret of strong and crea- 
tive minds ; forgetfulness after the manner of nature, 
which is forever beginning anew the mysteries of her 
unwearying productive energies. Weak minds, like that 
of Birotteau, live in their misfortunes, instead of treat- 
ing them as apothegms of experience ; they become 
impregnated with them and wear themselves out by their 
daily retrogradation in disasters long since ended. 
When the two couples had reached the path leading to 
the Aulnay wood, which was placed like a crown upon 
one of the prettiest hill-sides in the neighborhood of 
Paris, and when the Vallee-aux-Loups appeared in all 
its coquettish beauty, the charm of the weather, the 
loveliness of the landscape, the early verdure and the 
delicious memories of the happiest day of his youth, 
relaxed the melancholy chords in Cesar’s soul ; he 
pressed his wife’s arm upon his palpitating bosom, and 
a gleam of pleasure at last broke out in his hitherto 
glassy eye. 

“You are yourself again, my poor Cesar,” said Con- 
stance, to her husband. “ It seems to me that we are 
behaving well enough to allow ourselves a little treat 
from time to time.” 

“How can I?” the poor man replied. “Ah! Con- 
stance, your affection is the only possession I have left. 
I have lost even my confidence in myself, my strength 
has gone, and my only desire is to live long enough to 
die quits with the earth. You, my dear wife, you who 
are my wisdom and my prudence, you who saw what 
was to come, you who are without reproach, you have a 
right to be cheerful ; I am the only guilty one of us 
three. Eighteen months ago, at that fatal ball, I beheld 





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OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


347 


my Constance, my only love, more beautiful perhaps 
than was the girl with whom I gamboled in-this very 
path twenty years ago, as our children are gamboling 
now. In less than two years, I have withered that beauty 
which was my proper and legitimate pride. I love you 
more as I know you better. Oh ! my dear wife,” he 
added, giving to the word an expression which reached 
Constance’s heart, “ I would rather hear you scold me 
than see you thus caressing my sorrow.” 

“ I did not suppose,” she said, “ that after twenty years 
of married life, a woman’s love for her husband could 
possibly increase.” 

This speech brought Cesar a momentary forgetful- 
ness cf his grief, for he was so sensitive that a confes- 
sion like this was a deep consolation. He proceeded 
almost joyously towards their tree, which, as it hap- 
pened, had not been cut down. The husband and wife 
sat down and gazed at Anselme and Cesarine who were 
unconsciously walking round and round upon the same 
lawn, probably thinking that they were going straight 
forward. 

“ Madamoiselle,” said Anselme, “ do you think me 
mean and miserly enough to turn my purchase of your 
father’s share in the Cephalic Oil to my own account ? 
I keep his half scrupulously apart, and I do the best 
with it I can. I discount with his profits, and if I get 
any dubious paper, I take it in my share. We cannot 
be each others’ till your father is rehabilitated, and I am 
hastening that day forward with all the strength that 
love has given me.” 

The lover had taken good care not to tell this secret 
to his mother-in-law. Young men in love, even the 
simplest, always have a desire to appear great in their 
mistress’ eyes. 


348 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


“ Will that be soon ?” asked Cesarine. 

“Very soon,” said Popinot. This answer was given 
in so penetrating a tone that the chaste and pure 
Cesarine offered her forehead to Anselme, who kissed it 
greedily and respectfully, so much impressed was he by 
this noble, though child-like action. 

“Father, everything is going on well,” she said, with 
a knowing air to Cesar. “ So be pleasant and talk, and 
don’t be sober any more.” 

When this united family returned to Pillerault’s house, 
Cesar, though a poor observer, perceived in the Ragons 
a change of manner which denoted an event of some 
magnitude. The welcome extended to him by Madame 
Ragon was particularly unctuous, and her look and her 
accent plainly told Cesar, “ We are paid.” 

At dessert, the notary of Sceaux presented himself ; 
uncle Pillerault bade him be seated and looked at Birot- 
teau who began to suspect a surprise, though he was far 
from imagining its full extent. 

“ Nephew, the earnings and savings of your wife and 
daughter and your own, during the past eighteen 
months, have reached the sum of twenty thousand 
francs. I received thirty thousand francs as the divi- 
dend of my claim, so that we have fifty thousand for your 
creditors. Out of this, Monsieur Ragon has received 
thirty thousand francs, and the notary of Sceaux has 
brought you a receipt in full, interest included. The 
remainder is in Crottat’s hands, for Lourdois, Madame 
Madou, the mason, the carpenter, and the other more 
needy creditors. We’ll see what next year will do for 
us. With time and patience, a man can go a great 
way.” 

Birotteau’s joy cannot be written ; he threw himself 
into his uncle’s arms and wept. 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


349 


“ Let him wear his cross to-day/' said Ragon to the 
abbe Loraux. 

The confessor attached the red ribbon to the button- 
hole of the clerk, who looked at himself in the glass 
twenty times that evening, manifesting a delight at 
which people who think themselves superior would have 
laughed, but which these worthy citizens thought per- 
fectly natural. The next day Birotteau called upon 
Madame Madou. 

“ Ah ! there you are, my honest man/’ she said, “I 
hardly knew you, you've turned so grey. Still, you 
don't suffer, you've all of you got places. I have to 
labor like a turnspit who works a crank and who 
deserves Christian baptism.” 

“ My dear Madame — " 

“ Oh, I don’t reproach you, 1 abandoned my claim.” 

“ I have come to tell you that the remainder of your 
claim, with interest, will be paid at the notary Crottat’s 
to-day.” 

“ What, really ?” 

“ Be there at half past eleven.” 

“ There’s honor for you, good measure and running 
over,” said she, looking at Birotteau with undisguised 
admiration. “But stop a moment, my dear sir; I’m 
doing a good round business with your little red-headed 
friend, he’s a fine young man and lets me make a big 
profit without ever higgling about the price, so as to 
make it up to me that way. Come now, I’ll give you a 
receipt in full, and you shall keep your money, you 
respectable old man ! Oh, I know it, Mother Madou 
does get her temper up, she does have her tantrums, but 
she’s got something here !” and she thumped herself 
violently on the most voluminous cushions of flesh that 
ever were seen in the markets. 


350 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


“ Never,” said Birotteau ; “ the law is stringent, I insist 
upon paying you in full.” 

“ Oh, very well, then I won’t keep you waiting,” said 
she. “ And to-morrow at market, I’ll let ’em all know 
what honor is. It’s a jolly good joke any way !” 

The worthy debtor went through the same scene at 
the painter’s, Crottat’s father-in-law, with variations. It 
was raining, and Cesar left his unbrella in a corner, near 
the door. The wealthy painter, seeing the water stream- 
ing through his fine dining-room where he was break- 
fasting with his wife, was not very courteous in his 
manners. 

“ Well, what brings you here, my poor Birotteau?” 
he said with that hard tone often assumed towards 
unfortunate beggars. 

“ Your son-in-law has not told you, then — ” 

“ Told me what?” interrupted Lourdois, supposing 
that Birotteau had a favor to ask. 

“ To call at his office this morning, at half past eleven, 
to give me a receipt for the payment in full of your 
claim ?” 

“ Oh, that’s a very different thing ; pray sit down, 
Monsieur Birotteau, and take a bite with us.” 

“ Do us the honor of sharing our meal,” added 
Madame Lourdois. 

“ So things are going well?” asked the corpulent 
Lourdois. 

“ No, sir, I have had to breakfast every morning off 
a biscuit at my desk to get together a little money, but 
I hope in time to be able to repair the damage I have 
done my neighbor.” 

“ Upon my word,” said the painter, cramming down a 
slice of bread thickly spread with pate de foie gras, “ you 
are an honorable man.” 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


351 


“And what is Madame Birotteau doing?” 

“ She keeps the books and accounts at Monsieur 
Anselme Popinot’s.” 

“ Poor people,” said Madame Lourdois in a whisper 
to her husband. 

“ If you should ever have need of me, my dear Birot- 
teau, come and see me. I may be able to assist you.” 

“ I shall have need of you at half past eleven, sir,” 
said Birotteau, and he departed. 

This first result gave the bankrupt courage, without 
restoring his tranquillity ; the desire of redeeming his 
honor unduly agitated his life ; he lost the color which 
animated his face, his eyes became lustreless and his 
cheeks hollow. Sometimes an old friend would meet 
Cesar at eight in the morning or four in the afternoon, 
going to or returning from the Rue de l’Oratoire, dressed 
in the coat which he wore at the time of his fall, and of 
which he took as much care as a poor sub-lieutenant 
does of his uniform, and, noticing his hair, now com- 
pletely white, his pale face and shrinking manner, would 
stop him in spite of his efforts to avoid a meeting — for 
his eye was on the watch, and he glided along the walls 
like a retreating thief. 

“Your conduct is well known, friend,” he would say. 

“ Everybody regrets the severity with which you treat 
yourself, as well as your wife and daughter.” 

“Take a little more time,” another would say; “a 
wound in one’s purse is never fatal.” 

“ Perhaps not, but a wound in one’s soul is,” said 
Cesar, quite disheartened, one day to Matifat. 

In the early part of the year 1822, the construction of 
the Canal Saint Martin was decided upon. The lands 
situated in the Faubourg du Temple reached almost 
fabulous prices. The proposed route cut du Tibet’s 


352 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


property, formerly Birotteau’s, exactly in halves. The 
company which obtained the privilege of building and 
working the canal agreed to the exhorbitant price 
asked by the banker, if he would hand the land over to 
them within a given time. The lease granted by Cesar 
to Popinot prevented his doing so. The banker visited 
the Rue des Cinq Diamants and called upon the drug- 
gist. Though Popinot had no personal feeling against 
du Tillet, Cesarine’s betrothed hated him instinctively. 

He was ignorant of the theft committed and the infa- 
mous plots hatched by the lucky financier, but a voice 
within him cried out, < This man is an unpunished thief.’ 
Popinot would not have entered into the slightest 
business arrangement with him ; his very presence was 
odious. At this period, too, he saw du Tillet growing 
rich upon the spoils of his former employer, for the 
Madeleine lands were already reaching prices which 
foreshadowed the exhorbitant sums at which they were 
held in 1827. So, when the banker explained the object 
of his visit, Popinot looked at him with concentrated 
indignation. 

“ I cannot refuse to give up my lease, but I want 
sixty thousand francs for it, and I won’t take the 
fourth part of a sou less.” 

“Sixty thousand francs !” cried du Tillet, making a 
movement to retire. 

“My lease has fifteen years to run, and it will cost me 
three thousand francs a year extra to get another factery. 
Sixty thousand francs, or we’ll say no more about it,” 
said Popinot, returning to the store, whither du Tillet 
followed him. 

The discussion waxed warm, the name of Birotteau 
was pronounced, Madame Cesar came down and saw du 
Tillet for the first time since the famous ball. The 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


353 


banker could not repress a movement of surprise, at 
sight of the changes wrought in his former mistress, and 
he cast down his eyes, frightened at his own work. 

“ This gentleman,” said Popinot to Madame Cesar, 
“is to get three hundred thousand francs for your land 
and. refuses us sixty thousand francs bonus for our 
lease.” 

“ But think,” said du Tillet, with emphasis, “ that 
makes three thousand francs a year.” 

“ Three thousand francs !” repeated Madame Cesar, 
simply but pointedly. Du Tibet turned pale, and Popi- 
not looked at Madame Birotteau. A moment of pro- 
found silence followed, which made this scene still more 
inexplicable to Anselme. 

“ Sign this surrender of the lease which I have had 
drawn up by Crottat,” said du Tibet, drawing a legal 
document from his side pocket, “ and I will give you a 
check upon the bank for sixty thousand francs.” 

Popinot looked at Madame Cesar without disguising 
his profound amazement ; he thought he must be 
dreaming. While du Tibet was filling up this check 
upon an elevated desk, Constance disappeared and 
returned up-stairs. The druggist and banker exchanged 
papers. Du Tillet bowed coldly to Popinot and 
went out. 

“ In a few months, thanks to this strange affair,” said 
Popinot, looking at du Tibet proceed on foot to the Rue 
des Lombards where his cabriolet was waiting, “ I shall 
have my Cesarine. My poor little wife shall no longer 
work her blood into a fever. To think that one look 
from Madame Cesar did the business ! What can there 
be between this bandit and her? What has occurred is 
really extraordinary.” 

Popinot sent to the bank to draw the check, and 


354 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


went up-stairs to speak to Madame Birotteau ; he did 
not find her in the office, and presumed she was in her 
chamber. Anselme and Constance lived as a son-in-law 
and mother-in-law may live together when they are 
mutually satisfied with each other ; he went, therefore, 
to her room with the eagerness natural to a lover who 



sees his happiness almost within his grasp. The young 
tradesman was prodigiously surprised to find his future 
mother-in-law, to whose side he bounded like a cat, 
reading a letter from du Tillet, for Anselme recognized 
the handwriting of Birotteau’s former clerk. A lighted 
candle, the black and dancing phantoms of letters 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


355 


burned upon the hearth, made Popinot shudder, for he 
had unwillingly, with his piercing eyes, caught this 
sentence at the top of the letter in his mother-in-law’s 
hand * 

“ I adore you , angel of my life ! You know it, too ; then 
why — ” 

“ What power is this you have over du Tillet, to make 
him conclude such an operation ?” he asked, laughing 
convulsively from the effect of the repression of his 
harsh suspicions. 

“ Oh, don’t let us speak of that !” she said, showing 
plainly how deeply she was moved. 

“ Well,” returned Popinot, quite thrown off his bal- 
ance, “ let us speak of the end of your sorrows.” And 
he turned rapidly upon his heel, and going to the win- 
dow, drummed on the glass, and looked out into the 
court “After all,” he said to himself, “suppose she 
has loved du Tillet, is that a reason for my not behav- 
ing like an honest man ?” 

“ What is the matter, Anselme ?” said the poor 
woman. 

“The net profits of the Cephalic Oil,” said Popinot, 
roughly, “amount to two hundred and forty-two thous- 
and francs, the half of which is one hundred and twenty- 
one thousand. From this sum I take the forty-eight 
thousand paid Monsieur Birotteau, and seventy-three 
thousand remain ; to which I add sixty thousand for 
the surrender of the lease, and you have one hundred 
and thirty-three thousand francs.” 

Madame Cesar listened in such an anxiety of happi- 
ness, that Popinot heard the violent pulsations of her 
heart. 

“ I have always considered Monsieur Birotteau as my 
partner,” he resumed, “ so we have this sum at our dis- 


356 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


posal to reimburse his creditors. If we add to it the 
twenty-eight thousand francs resulting from your sav- 
ings and invested by our uncle Pillerault, we have one 
hundred and sixty-one thousand francs. Our uncle 
will not refuse us a quit claim of his twenty-five thous- 
and francs. And no power on earth can prevent me 
from advancing my father-in-law such sums upon next 
year’s profits as may be necessary to make up the whole 
amount due. Thus — he — will be — rehabilitated.” 

“ Rehabilitated !” cried Madame Cesar, as she knelt 
upon her chair. She clasped her hands and prayed, let- 
ting the letter drop from her hands. “Dear Anselme !” 
she said, making the sign of a cross, “ my dear boy !” 
She took his head in her hands, kissed him on the fore- 
head, pressed him to her bosom, and abandoned herself 
freely to her joy. “ Cesarine is yours, in good earnest ! 
She will be very happy ! She shall leave the shop where 
she is working herself to death.” 

“ For love,” said Popinot. 

“ Yes,” said his mother, smiling. 

“ Listen to a little secret,” said Popinot, looking at 
the fatal letter out of one corner of his eye. “ I did 
Celestin a service in aiding him to buy out your stock, 
but I saddled it with a condition. Your rooms are pre- 
cisely as you left them. I had an idea, but I did not 
believe luck would have favored us as it has. Celestin 
has bound himself to underlet your former rooms to 
you ; he has not set foot in them, and all the furniture 
is yours. I keep the second story for myself, and shall 
live there with Cesarine, who will never leave you. 
After our marriage, I shall come and pass the mornings 
here — that is, from eight in the morning to six in the 
evening. In order to restore you your fortune, I will 
buy out Monsieur Cesar’s interest for one hundred thous- 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 357 

and francs, so that you will have, with his clerkship, 
ten thousand francs a year. Will you not be happy ?” 

“ Say no more, Anselme, or I shall lose my senses.” 

Madame Cesar’s angelic attitude, the pure light of her 
eyes and the innocence of her fair brow, gave the lie so 
proudly to the thousand ideas that were revolving in 
the lover’s brain, that he was determined to put an end 
to the abomination of his doubts. An error was totally 
irreconcileable with the life and the principles of Piller- 
ault’s niece. 

“ My dear, my adored mother, my soul has just con- 
ceived a horrible suspicion. If you wish to see me 
happy, you will crush it this very instant.” Popinot 
had stretched forth his hand, and had seized the letter. 

“ Without meaning it,” he said, alarmed at the terror 
depicted upon Constance’s face, “ I read the first few 
words of this letter written by du Tillet. These words 
coincide so strangely with the effect you produced just 
now in inducing so ready a compliance on the part of 
that man with my exorbitant demand, that any one 
would account for it as the fiend at my ear accounts for 
it, in spite of me. One look and three words from you 
sufficed — •” 

“ Do not finish,” said Madame Cesar, taking back the 
letter and burning it before Anselme’s eyes. “ My 
child, I have been very cruelly punished for a trifling 
fault. I will tell you all, Anselme. I do not wish the 
suspicion inspired by the mother to injure the daughter, 
and besides, I can speak without having cause to blush ; 
I would tell my husband what I am going to tell you. 
Du Tibet sought to ruin me, my husband was at once 
informed of it, and du Tibet was to be discharged. The 
day when my husband was going to dismiss him, he 
stole three thousand francs.” 


358 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


“ I suspected it,” said Popinot, in an accent that 
clearly expressed his hatred. 

“ Anselme, your future life, your happiness, require 
this avowal ; but let it die in your heart, as it is already 
dead in mine and Cesar’s. You must remember my 
husband’s scolding about an error in the accounts. 
Birotteau, to avoid a law-suit and to spare the man, 
doubtless, put three thousand francs into the till to make 
good the amount — the cost of the cashmere shawl which 
I had to wait three years for. So there is my exclama- 
tion accounted for. Alas! my dear boy, I will confess 
my childish folly ; du Tibet had written me three love 
letters, which painted his character so well,” she said, 
sighing and casting down her eyes, “ that I kept them — 
as a curiosity. I have never re-read them once. Still 
it was imprudent to keep them. On seeing du Tibet 
just now, I thought of them, I came up-stairs to burn 
them, and was looking at the last when you came in — 
that’s all, Anselme.” 

Anselme knelt upon one knee and kissed Madame 
Cesar’s hand with an expression so touching that it 
called tears to the eyes of both of them. The mother- 
in-law raised her son-in-law up, stretched forth her arms 
to him, and pressed him to her heart. 

This was destined to be a joyful day for Cesar. The 
king’s private secretary, Monsieur de Vandenesse, came 
to the office to speak to him. They went out together 
into the little court-yard of the Sinking Fund. 

“ Monsieur Birotteau,” said the Viscount de Vanden- 
esse, “ your efforts to pay your creditors have acciden- 
tally come to the knowledge of the king. His Majesty, 
touched by an act so rare, and knowing that, from humil- 
ity, you do not wear the cross of the Legion of Honor, 
has sent me to request you to resume the* emblem. 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


359 


Desirous, also, to aid you to fulfill your obligations, he has 
commissioned me to hand you this sum, taken from his 
privy purse, regretting that he cannot do more. Let this 
remain a profound secret. His Majesty considers the 
official promulgation of his charities unworthy of a king,” 
added the private secretary, placing six thousand francs 
in the hands of the clerk, whose sensations during this 
speech had been indescribable. 

Birotteau stammered forth a few unconnected words, 
and Vandenesse, smiling, bade him farewell with a ges- 
ture of his hand. The sentiment which animated poor 
Cesar is so rare in Paris, that his conduct had gradually 
excited admiration. Joseph Lebas, Judge Popinot, 
Camusot, the abbe Loraux, Ragon, the head of the impor- 
tant house which employed Cesarine, Lourdois, la Bil- 
lardiere, had spoken of it. Public opinion, already 
changed concerning him, praised him to the skies. 

“ There’s a man of honor for you !” This exclamation 
had several times struck Cesar’s ear as he passed along 
the street, and caused him the emotion which an author 
feels as he hears the words, “ There he is !” This hon- 
orable fame was mortally hateful to du Tillet. When 
Cesar received the bills sent him by the sovereign, his 
first thought was to employ them in paying his former 
clerk. The poor man went to the Rue de la Chaussee 
d’Antin, and the banker, returning from his business, 
met his former master on the staircase. 

“ Well, my poor Birotteau !” said he, in patronizing 
tones. 

“ Poor,” cried the debtor, proudly, “ I am very rich. 
I shall lay my head upon my pillow to-night with the 
satisfaction of knowing that I have paid you.” 

This speech, so pregnant with integrity, was a sharp 
torture for du Tillet. In spite of the public esteem, he 




3G0 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


did not esteem himself ; a voice within that he could not 
stifle, cried out to him, “ This man is sublime !” 

“ Pay me ! Why, what business are you in ?” 

Very sure that du Tillet would not divulge the secret, 
the ex-perfumer said : “ I never shall resume business, 

sir. No human power could have foreseen what has 
happened. Who knows that I should not be the victim 
of another Roguin ? But my conduct has been laid 
before the king, his heart has deigned to have pity on 
my efforts, and he has encouraged me by sending me, 
just now, quite a considerable sum which — ” 

“ Do you want a receipt ?” said du Tillet, interrupt- 
ing him, “ do you pay in — ” 

“In full, and the interest, too ; so I beg you to come 
with me to Monsieur Crottat’s, two steps from here.” 

“ What, before a notary !” 

“ Sir,” said Cesar, “ I am not interdicted from aspir- 
ing to rehabilitation, and papers, duly witnessed, are, in 
that case, evidence beyond suspicion.” 

“Well, then,” said du Tillet, who went out with Birot- 
teau, “come, it’s only a step. But where do you find so 
much money,” he resumed. 

“ I don’t find it, I earn it by the sweat of my brow.” 

“ You owe an enormous sum to the house of Clap- 
aron.” 

“ Alas, yes, that is my heaviest debt. I am almost 
afraid I shall die at the task.” 

“You will never pay it,” said du Tillet, harshly. 

“ He is right,” thought Birotteau. 

The poor man went unwittingly through the Rue Saint 
Honore on his way home ; he usually went round about 
so as not to see his shop nor the windows of his rooms. 
For the first time since his fall, he saw the house in 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


361 


which eighteen years of happiness had been blotted out 
by three months of anguish. 

“ I thought I should end my days there,” he said. 

And he hurried on, for he had caught a glimpse of the 
new sign : 

CELESTlR CREVEL, 

SUCCESSOR TO CESAR BIROTTEAU. 

“ What’s the matter with my eyes ? Wasn’t that 
Cesarine ?” he cried, as he remembered having seen a 
blonde head at the window. 

He had really seen his wife, his daughter and Popinot. 
The lovers knew that Cesar never passed before his 
former house. Having no reason to foresee what now 
happened, they had come to made arrangements relative 
to the entertainment which they were planning for 
Cesar. This singular apparition so astonished Birotteau 
that he remained stock still. 

“ There is Monsieur Birotteau looking at his old 
house,” said Molineux to the shopkeeper living opposite 
the Queen of Roses. 

“ Poor man,” said the perfumer’s late neighbor, “he 
gave a splendid ball, sir, in that house. There were 
two hundred carriages.” 

“ I was there ; he failed three months afterwards,” 
said Molineux. “ I was syndic.” 

Birotteau hurried away with trembling limbs, and 
went to his uncle Pillerault’s. 

Pillerault, aware of what was going on in the Rue des 
Cinq Diamants, thought that the shock of a joy so great 
as that resulting from his rehabilitation, would be too 
much for his nephew, for he was the daily witness of 
the moral vicissitudes of the poor man, whose inflexible 


362 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


opinions relative to failure were ever before him, and 
whose strength was well-nigh overtasked. Honor was 
to Cesar a corpse which might yet have its Easter. This 
hope rendered his agony unceasingly active. Pillerault 
took it upon himself to prepare him to hear the glad 
tidings. When Birotteau returned home, he found his 
uncle thinking of the best method of accomplishing his 
purpose. The delight with which the clerk narrated 
the evidence of the interest the king felt in him seemed 
auspicious to Pillerault, and his astonishment at having 
seen Cesarine at the Queen of Roses furnished an excel- 
lent pretext for opening the subject. 

“ Well, Cesar,” said Pillerault, “ do you know what 
has led to this ? Popinot’s impatience to marry Cesarine. 
He can’t wait any longer, and he is not bound, for the 
sake of your exaggerated notions of probity, to waste 
his youth and to eat dry bread while smelling a good 
dinner. Popinot wishes to give you the funds necessary 
for the payment of your creditors in full.” 

“ That would be buying his wife,” said Birotteau. 

“ Is it not honorable to rehabilitate one’s father-in- 
law ?” 

“ But it might be contested. Besides — ” 

“ Besides,” said Pillerault, pretending to be angry, 
“ you perhaps have the right to sacrifice yourself, but 
you have not the right to sacrifice your daughter.” 

Upon this a lively discussion commenced, and Pille- 
rault purposely fanned the flame. 

“ Suppose, then, that Popinot lent you nothing at all,” 
cried Pillerault, “ suppose he had considered you his 
partner, and the sum given your creditors for your share 
of the oil a mere advance upon the profits, so as not to 
despoil you — ” 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


363 


“ It would look as if I had connived with him to 
cheat my creditors.” 

Pillerault pretended to be overcome by this argument. 
He was sufficiently acquainted with the human heart to 
know that the worthy creature would have a quarrel 
with himself on this point during the night ; and this 
internal discussion would accustom him to the idea of 
his rehabilitation. 

“ But why,” said Cesar at dinner, “ why were my wife 
and daughter at my former house ?” 

“ Anselme wishes to hire it and live there with Cesa- 
rine. Your wife shares his opinions. Without letting 
you know it, they have had the banns published, so as 
to force you to consent. Popinot says there would be 
less merit in marrying Cesarine after your rehabilita- 
tion. What ! You take six thousand francs from the 
king, and you’ll take nothing from your relatives ! I 
suppose I can give you a receipt for what you owe me, 
can't I ?” 

“ I would not refuse to take it, but it would not pre- 
vent me from economizing in order to pay you, spite of 
the receipt.” 

“What subtelty !” said Pillerault. “ In matters relat- 
ing to integrity I ought to be trusted. What a stupid 
reply you made just now. Will you have cheated your 
creditors when you have paid them all you owe?” 

At this moment, Cesar looked at Pillerault, and Pille- 
rault was moved to see a frank smile animate, for the 
first time in three years, his poor nephew’s dejected 
features. 

“It’s true,” he said, “they would be paid; but it 
would be selling my daughter.” 

“ Well, I want to be bought,” said Cesarine, who 
entered with Popinot. 


364 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


The two lovers had heard Cesar’s last words as they 
came on tiptoe into the ante-chamber of their uncle’s 
little suite of rooms, Madame Birotteau following them. 
They had all three been in a carriage to see the credi- 
tors who were still to be paid, and had convoked them 
for that evening at Alexander Crottat’s, where the 
receipts would be in readiness. The loving Popinot’s 
powerful logic triumphed over Cesar’s scruples, though 
the latter at first insisted upon calling himself a debtor, 
and upon asserting that he evaded the law by a mere 
substitution of one creditor for another. But the refine- 
ments of his conscience were vanquished by Popinot’s 
exclamation, “ Do you want to kill your daughter ?” 

“ Kill my daughter !” said Cesar, alarmed. 

• “ Well, then,” said Popinot, “ I have the right to make 
you a donation of the sum which I conscientiously 
believe to be yours. Do you refuse ?” 

“ No,” said Cesar. 

“Very well, we will go to Alexander Crottat’s this 
evening, so as not to have to recur to the subject again, 
and we will arrange about the marriage contract at the 
same time.” 

An application for rehabilitation and the necessary 
papers to support it were deposited by Derville with the 
attorney-general of the Royal Court of Paris. During 
the month that these formalities and the publication of 
the banns for Anselme and Cesarine’s marriage lasted, 
Birotteau was in a constant state of feverish agitation. 
He was very anxious, and was afraid he should not live 
till the great day when the decree should be pro- 
nounced. His heart palpitated without any reason, he 
said. He complained of dull pains in that organ, which 
was as much worn by the emotions of pain as it was 
fatigued by this supreme delight. Decrees of rehabilita- 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


365 


tion are so rare in the jurisdiction of the Royal Court 
of Paris that hardly one is rendered in ten years. To 
persons who look upon society in a serious point of 
view, the machinery of justice presents a grand and 
imposing spectacle. Institutions depend altogether 
upon the sentiments with which men regard them, and 
upon the grandeur with which they are clothed by the 
mind. Thus, when a nation no longer preserves, we do 
not say its religion, but its faith, when primary educa- 
tion has loosened every conservative tie by accustoming 
the child to a pitiless analysis, the nation is dissolved, 
for it is no longer a body except so far as it is ignobly 
held together by the ties of material interest and the 
commandments of the worship created by a profound 
selfishness. 

Birotteau, who had been religiously educated, accepted 
the administration of justice for what it ought to be in 
the eyes of man — -the representative of society itself, an 
august expression of the accepted law independent of 
the form under which it is manifested ; the older, the 
more broken-down and gray-headed the magistrate, the 
more solemn the exercise of his sacred office, which 
demands so profound a study of men and things, which 
sacrifices the heart and hardens it to the guardianship 
of interests so vital. Men who cannot ascend the stairs 
of the Royal Court in the Old Temple of Justice in 
Paris without lively emotion are becoming rare, and the 
late tradesman was one of those men. Few persons 
have noticed the imposing majesty of this staircase, and 
its admirable position for producing an effect. It stands 
above the exterior peristyle which adorns the court- 
yard of the palace, and its gate is in the middle of a 
gallery which leads, in one direction, to the immense 
lobby, and in the other, to the Holy Chapel — two mon* 


366 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


uments well calculated to render every thing mean 
about them. 

The church of St. Louis is one of the most imposing 
edifices in Paris, and its appearance at the end of this 
gallery is singularly sombre and romantic. The grand 
lobby, on the contrary, presents a light and brilliant 
expanse, and it is difficult to forget that the history of 
France is connected with this room. This staircase must 
therefore be of a remarkably grand character, as it is 
not unduly crushed by these two magnificent works. 
Perhaps the soul is moved at sight of the spot where the 
decrees of justice are executed, seen through the rich 
railing of the palace. The stairs lead to an immense 
hall, the ante-room of that in which the court holds the 
audience of its first chamber, and which forms the lobby 
of this court. The reader can judge what the emotions 
of the bankrupt were, impressed as he naturally would 
be by these accessories, on ascending to the court, sur- 
rounded by his friends ; Lebas, at this time president 
of the tribunal of commerce ; Camusot, lately his com- 
missary-judge ; Ragon, once his employer ; and the 
abbe Loraux, his spiritual director. The holy priest 
brought out in full relief these human splendors by a 
reflection which rendered them still more imposing in 
Cesar’s eyes. Pillerault, like a practical philosopher 
as he was, had conceived the idea of exciting the joy of 
his nephew in a high degree beforehand, in order to 
remove any danger likely to result from unforeseen 
events during the ceremony. As the ex-tradesman was 
finishing his toilet, his true friends, who made it a point 
of honor to accompany him to the bar of the court, 
arrived. This escort produced in Cesar’s mind a satis- 
faction which threw him into just the state of excitement 
necessary to enable him to support the imposing spec- 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


367 


tacle. Birotteau found other friends assembled in the 
hall of solemn conclave, where a dozen counselors had 
taken their se^ts. 

After the cases in readiness had been called, Birot- 
teau ’s attorney made his application in a few words. 
The first president having motioned the attorney-gen- 
eral to state his views, that officer rose. In the liame of 
the prosecution, the attorney-general, the functionary 
representing the justice of the people, said he had been 
oh the point of claiming the privilege himself, of restor- 
ing this tradesman his honor which he had done nothing 
more than compromise — a unique ceremony, for he who 
is condemned can only be pardoned. Persons of sensi- 
bility will imagine Birotteau’s emotions when he heard 
Monsieur de Grandville utter a discourse of which the 
following is an abridgement : 

“ Gentlemen,” said the celebrated magistrate, “on 
the 16th of January, 1820, Birotteau was declared a 
bankrupt, by decision of the tribunal of commerce of 
the Seine. His failure was occasioned neither by the 
tradesman’s imprudence, nor by improper speculations, 
nor by any reason that could injure his reputation. 
We feel it incumbent upon us to say thus publicly, 
that this misfortune was due to one of those calamities 
which have occurred, more than once, to the great 
shame of justice and of the city of Paris. It was 
reserved to an age, in which the dangerous leaven of 
revolutionary manners and ideas must yet a long time 
ferment, to witness the notariat of Paris abandoning 
the glorious traditions of preceding ages, and causing, 
in the space of a few years, as many failures as occurred 
during two centuries under the old monarchy. The 
thirst for money and for its rapid acquisition has seized 


368 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


upon these public officers, these guardians of the public 
wealth, these intermediate magistrates.’ 

A tirade followed upon this text, in which, falling in 
with the necessities of his position, the Count de 
Grandville found means to criminate the liberals, the 
Bonapartists and other enemies of the throne. The 
event has proved that he was justified in his apprehen- 
sions. 

“ The flight of a notary of Paris, who carried away 
the funds deposited with him by Birotteau, caused the 
ruin of the postulant,” he resumed. “ The court ren- 
dered in the matter a decision which shows to what 
a degree the confidence of Roguin’s clients had been 
abused. Ah arrangement followed. We will remark, 
-to the postulant’s credit, that the transactions were 
remarkable for their uprightness, a feature never char- 
acterizing the scandalous failures by which trade in 
Paris is daily disgraced. Birotteau’s creditors found 
-the smallest articles that the unfortunate man possessed. 
They found, gentlemen, his clothing, his jewels, in short, 
all the articles intended exclusively for personal use, and 
not only his, but those of his wife, who waived her 
rights in order to increase the assets. Birotteau was 
worthy, in this emergency, of the consideration to which 
he had owed his municipal functions ; for he was at 
that time, deputy mayor of the second ward, and had ■ 
just received the cross of the Legion of Honor, given as 
much to the devoted royalist who fought in Vendemiaire 
upon the steps of St. Roch, which he had dyed with his 
blood, as to the consular judge, esteemed for his intelli- 
gence and beloved for his conciliating spirit, and to the 
modest official who refused the honors of the mayorality, 
at the same time pointing out a man more worthy of it, 
the honorable Baron de la Billardiere, one of the noble 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


369 


Vendeans whom he had learned to respect in a period 
of trouble.” 

“ That’s a better phrase than mine,” said Cesar in 
his uncle’s ear. 

“ Thus, the creditors, receiving sixty per cent, of their 
claims through the abandonment, by this honest trades- 
man, his wife and daughter, of all that they possessed, 
strongly expressed their esteem in the arrangement 
made between the debtor and themselves, in which they 
relinquished all further claims against him. The evi- 
dence they thus bear commends itself to the court by 
the language in which it is expressed.” 

Here the attorney-general read the paragraphs of the 
arrangement commencing “ whereas.” 

“Many tradesmen, gentlemen, in view of this easy 
disposition of his creditors, would have considered them- 
selves liberated, and would have walked the streets with 
conscious pride. Not so Birotteau. Without being 
disheartened, he formed in his mind the project to live 
for the glorious day which has now dawned upon him. 
Nothing has discouraged him. Our well-beloved sov- 
ereign gives the veteran of St. Roch an office that he 
may earn his bread, the bankrupt puts aside his salary 
for his creditors, reserving nothing for his own needs, 
for the devotion of a family was not withheld from 
him.” 

Birotteau pressed his uncle’s hand and wept. 

“ His wife and daughter contributed the result of their 
labor to the common fund, for they had made the noble 
purpose of Birotteau their own. Both of them descended 
from the position they occupied to assume an inferior 
one. These sacrifices, gentlemen, deserve the highest 
honor, for they are the most difficult to make. The task 
which Birotteau had imposed upon himself is as follows ;” 


370 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


Here the attorney-general read the result of the 
arrangement made, mentioning the sums remaining due 
and the names of the creditors. 

“All these sums, gentlemen, interest included, have 
been paid ; the receipts are not private signatures which 
call for the severe investigation the law requires, but 
receipts legally witnessed, and which, though they could 
not deceive the court, have nevertheless been fully 
examined by the proper magistrates. You will restore 
Birotteau, not his honor, but the rights of which he has 
been deprived, and you will do justice. Such spectacles 
are so rare before you, that we cannot help expressing to 
the postulant our approval of a line of conduct which 
an august favor had already encouraged.” He then read 
his formal conclusions, drawn up in legal form. 

The court consulted together without leaving their 
seats, and the president rose to pronounce their decision. 
“ The court,” he said in closing, “ directs me to express 
to Birotteau its pleasure in returning such a verdict. 
Clerk, call on the next case.” 

Birotteau, already decked in the robe of honor in 
which the speech of the attorney-general had clad him, 
was well-nigh overcome with pleasure at having this 
solemn sentence uttered by the first president of the first 
Royal Court of France, — one which proved that even the 
impassible hearts of the officers of human justice could 
sometimes vibrate. He could not leave his place at the 
bar ; one would have thought him nailed there, as he 
gazed vacantly upon the magistrates as upon angels who 
had opened him the gates of social life again. His uncle 
took him by the hand and drew him out into the hall. 
Cesar, who had not obeyed Louis XVIII, mechanically 
attached the ribbon of the Legion to his button-hole, 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 


371 


was immediately surrounded by his friends and carried 
in triumph to the carriage. 

“ Where are you taking me to, my friends ?” he said 
to Joseph Lebas, Pillerault and Ragon. 

“To your own house.” 

“ No, it is three o’clock ; I want to go to the Exchange, 
and profit by my right.” 

“ Drive to the Exchange,” said Pillerault to the coach- 
man, looking significantly at Lebas, for he observed 
certain threatening symptoms in the rehabilitated 
tradesman, and he feared that he might go mad. 

The late perfumer entered ’the Exchange, giving one 
arm to his uncle and the other to Lebas, both of them 
tradesmen highly respected. His rehabilitation was 
known. The first person who saw the three traders, 
and old Ragon following them, was du Tillet. 

“ Ah, my dear master, I am delighted to hear that you 
are out of your difficulties. I perhaps contributed to 
this happy conclusion of your troubles by the ease with 
which I let little Popinot pluck out one of my wing 
feathers. I am as pleased with your happiness as if it 
were my own.” 

“You couldn’t be pleased with it any other way,” said 
Pillerault, “ for it will never happen to you.” 

“ In what sense do you mean, sir ?” said du Tillet. 

“ In the complimentary sense, of course,” put in Lebas, 
smiling at the malicious retort of Pillerault, who 
regarded du Tillet as a scoundrel, though he knew noth- 
ing against him. 

Matifat recognized Cesar. Immediately merchants of 
the highest reputation surrounded the ex-perfumer and 
gave him an ovation after the manner of the Exchange ; 
he received the most flattering speeches, grasps of the 
hand which excited no little jealousy and even caused 


372 


THE GREATNESS AND DECLINE 


considerable remorse, for out of a hundred persons who 
were walking there, more than fifty had liquidated. 
Gigonnet and Gobseck, who were conversing in a corner, 
looked at the honest, perfumer as probably naturalists 
looked at the first electric eel that was laid before them. 
This fish, possessing the power of a Leyden jar, is the 
greatest curiosity of the animal kingdom. After having 
inhaled the incense of his triumph, Cesar got into his 
carriage again and started to return to his house, where 
the marriage contract between his dear Cesarine and 
the devoted Popinot was to bef signed. 

One fault of youth is the error of believing every one 
as strong as itself — a fault, however, resulting from its 
good qualities ; instead of seeing men and things 
through the spectacles of age, it colors them with the 
reflections of its own fire, and endows old people with 
its superabundance of vitality. Like Cesar and Con- 
stance, Popinot . preserved in his memory a superb 
picture of Birotteau’s ball. During these three years of 
trial, Constance and Cesar had often heard, though they 
never said so, Collinet’s orchestra, often seen the bloom- 
ing assemblage of guests, and often tasted again the 
bliss which had been so cruelly punished, as Adam and 
Eve must often have thought of that forbidden fruit 
which gave death and life to all their posterity, for it 
appears that the reproduction of angels is one of the 
mysteries of heaven. Popinot, however, could think of 
the ball without remorse and with delight ; Cesarine, 
in all her glory, had promised herself to him in his pov- 
erty. During that evening he had acquired the cer- 
tainty of being loved for himself alone ! So, when he 
had bought back from Celestin the lease of the rooms 
which Grindot had decorated, with the stipulation that 
nothing should be touched, when he had scrupulously 


OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 373 

preserved the smallest articles belonging to Cesar and 
Constance, it was his dream, his desire, to give a ball 
there, his wedding-ball. He had prepared this festivity 
with ardor, imitating his master in his necessary expenses 
only and not in his follies ; the follies were already com- 
mitted. The dinner was to be served by Chevet, the 
guests were nearly the same. The abbe Loraux came 
in the place of the grand chancellor of the Legion of 
Honor; Lebas, the president of the Tribunal of Com- 
merce, was of course present. Popinot invited Monsieur 
Camusot as a return for the kindness he had so lavishly 
shown Birotteau. DeVandenesse and de Fontaine came 
instead of Roguin and his wife. 

Cesarine and Popinot had distributed the invitations 
for the ball with discernment. Both of them shrank 
from the publicity of a wedding, and had avoided the 
danger of wounding the susceptibilities that the inno- 
cent and pure feel on such occasions, -by giving the ball 
on the signing of the contract instead of on the solem- 
nization of the ceremony. Constance had resumed the 
cherry-colored gown in which, during one single day, 
she had shone with such fleeting glory. Cesarine had 
taken pleasure in surprising Popinot by appearing in 
the ball-dress of which he had again and again spoken. 
In the same way the rooms were to present to Birotteau 
the enchanting spectacle which he had enjoyed during 
a single evening. Neither Constance, nor Cesarine, nor 
Anselme, had supposed there could be any danger for 
Cesar in this huge surprise, and at four o’clock they 
were waiting for him with a delight which almost made 
them childish. 

After the ineffable emotions which his visit to the 
Exchange had just caused him, this hero of commercial 
integrity was to meet the shock which awaited him in 


374 


THE GHEATNESS AND DECLINE 


the Rue Saint Honore. When he entered his former 
home, and saw, at the foot of the still fresh staircase, 
his wife in her cherry-colored gown, Cesarine, the Count 
de Fontaine, the Viscount de Vandenesse, the Baron de 
la Billardiere, the illustrious Vauquelin, a light veil 
seemed spread before his eyes, and his uncle Pillerault, 
who supported him on his arm, noticed an internal 
shudder. 

“ This is too much,” said the philosopher to the lover, 
“ he never can drink the cup which you have filled for 
him.” 

Delight was so profound in every heart, that all 
attributed Cesar’s emotion and his hesitating gait to an 
intoxication which, though perfectly natural, is often 
fatal. As he found himself at home again, as he saw 
his parlor and the guests, among whom were several 
ladies dressed for the ball, the heroic movement of the 
finale of Beethoven’s grand symphony suddenly burst 
forth in his head and in his heart. This ideal music 
flashed and pealed in the major and in the minor, and 
sounded its trumpets in the membranes of this worn-out 
brain, for which it was to be indeed the grand finale. 

Overwhelmed by this internal harmony, he took his 
wife’s arm and whispered in a voice choked by a rush of 
blood till now restrained : “ I am not well !” 

Constance, alarmed, led her husband to his chamber, 
which he with difficulty reached, and where he dropped 
into his arm-chair, saying : “ Monsieur Haudry, Mon- 
sieur Loraux !” * 

The abbe Loraux came, followed by the guests and 
ladies in ball dress, who stopped short, forming a terri- 
fied group. In the presence of this gay assembly, Cesar 
pressed the hand of his confessor, and bowed his head 



OF CESAR BIROTEEATT. 375 


upon the bosom of his Kneeling wife. A blood-vessel 
had already burst in his chest, and, to crown all, an 
aneurism stifled his last breath. 

“ Behold the death of the just,” said the abbe Loraux, 
in a deep voice, as he pointed to Cesar with one of 
those divine gestures that Rembrandt was inspired to 
draw in his picture of the Raising of Lazarus. 

Christ has ordered the earth to give up its dead, and 
the holy man of God pointed out to heaven this martyr 
of mercantile probity, that he might be crowned with 
the everlasting palm. 

/ w c $ ■ L 

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THE END. 



A NEW NOVEL 

By the Author of “ The Leavenworth Case.” 


The Forsaken Inn. 

BY 

ANNA KATHARINE GREEN. 

ILLUSTRATED. 

12mo. 352 pages. Handsomely bound in English Cloth, Black 
and Gold stamping on cover. Price, $1.50 

Anna Katharine Green’s New Novel will excite great 
curiosity and be widely popular. The authoress of “The 
Leavenworth Case” has always been considered extraordi- 
narily clever in the construction of mystifying and exciting 
plots, but in her latest book she has not only eclipsed even 
herself in her specialty, but has combined with her story- 
telling gift a fascinating mixture of poetical qualities which 
makes “The Forsaken Inn” a work of such interest that it 
will not be laid down by an imaginative reader until he has 
reached the last line of the last chapter. The scene of the 
story is the Hudson, between Albany and Poughkeepsie, and 
the time is the close of the eighteenth century. In writing 
her previous books, the authoress carefully planned her 
work before putting pen to paper, but this story was written 
in a white heat, and under the spur of a moment of inspira- 
tion. 

“The Forsaken Inn ” would have a large circulation even 
if the author was less well known and popular than Anna 
Katharine Green. With the author’s reputation and its own 
inherent excellence, we confidently predict that it will prove 
the novel of the season. 

The illustrations of “The Forsaken Inn” are by Victor 
Perard. They are twenty-one in number, and are a beautiful 
embellishment of the book. 

Address ROBERT BONNER’S SONS, 

Corner of William and Spruce Streets, New York. 


THE GREAT BOOK OF THE AGE 


Great Senators of the United States 

Forty Years Ago (1848 and 1849), with Personal Recollections and Delineations 
of Calhoun, Benton, Clay, Webster, General Houston, Jefferson Davis, etc. By 
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Oliver Dyer’s u Great Senators of tlie United States Forty 
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This book will be read with the keenest pleasure by all who are old enough 
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ROBERT BONNER’S SONS. 


THE HIDDEN HAND. 


By MRS. E. D. E. N. SOUTHWORTH, 

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MISS LIBBEY’S NEW NOVEE. 


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FOR WOMAN’S LOVE 


By MRS. E. D. E. N. SOUTHWORTH, 

Author of “The Hidden Hand,” “Unknown,” “ Lost Lady of Lone,” 
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A 



NEW NOVEL 


By the Author of “The Leavenworth Case.” 


The Forsaken Inn. 

BY 

ANNA KATHARINE GREEN. 

ILLUSTRATED. 

12mo. 352 pages. Handsomely bound in English Cloth, Black 
and Gold stamping on cover. Price, $1.50. 


Anna Katharine Green’s New Novel will excite great 
curiosity and be widely popular. The authoress of “The 
Leavenworth Case” has always been considered extraordi- 
narily clever in the construction of mystifying and exciting 
plots, but in her latest book she has not only eclipsed even 
herself in her specialty, but has combined with her story- 
telling gift a fascinating mixture of poetical qualities which 
makes “The Forsaken Inn” a work of such interest that it 
will not be laid down by an imaginative reader until he has 
reached the last line of the last chapter. The scene of the 
story is the Hudson, between Albany and Poughkeepsie, and 
the time is the close of the eighteenth century. In writing 
her previous books, the authoress carefully planned her 
work before putting pen to paper, but this story was written 
in a white heat, and under the spur of a moment of inspira- 
tion. 

“ The Forsaken Inn ” would have a large circulation even 
if the author was less well known and popular than Anna 
Katharine Green. With the author’s reputation and its own 
inherent excellence, we confidently predict that it will prove 
the novel of the season. 

The illustrations of “The Forsaken Inn” are by Victor 
Perard. They are twenty-one in number, and are a beautiful 
embellishment of the boo^:. 


Address 

U Mr'33 


ROBERT BONNER’S SONS, 


Corner of William and Spruce Streets, New York. 



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